One Joke Too Far
by Ashen Skies
Summary: [1x2] Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge, but went too far, and Duo - changed. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying, especially Heero, who realized his feelings for Duo just a bit too late...
1. Chapter One: Aftereffects

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write. Thank you.

**Pairings**: 1x2, 3x4, 5xnot decided

**Timeline**: During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating**: NC-17 later.

**Warnings**: Self-mutilation. Angst, angst, angst.

**Summary**: Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far**

_Chapter One_

_

* * *

_

"Duo?"

"Hey. Q. Need to use the bathroom?"

"Yes, but if you're not done, I can find another bathroom."

"Would you mind? I'm really sorry."

There was something different about Duo's voice… "Not at all, it's no problem."

"That's good. Sorry, Quat."

Quatre frowned at the door. There _was_ something wrong with Duo, and his heart was telling him it was something _very_ wrong. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Okay, then… Oh, dinner's ready soon, so come down in five minutes or so?"

"Sure, thanks."

Duo listened to Quatre's footsteps retreating from the bathroom door, and took a deep, shuddering breath. Roughly, he swiped at his eyes with a shrug of his shoulder, the sleeve darkening with moisture. Then he unfolded himself, standing up, and looked around him, smiling ruefully. "Ah, this is going to take some time clearing up… I _do_ hope I didn't stain anything. Blood's awfully hard to get out of cloth when it's dried."

He looked down at his own thighs and made a face. "Damn, I guess that means no more shorts anymore. Oh well, the scars will be a reminder, at least." He crossed over to the full-length mirror next to the sink, ignoring the pain tearing at his thighs, and stared at himself. Reddened eyes, blood-covered legs, and skin too pale from blood loss… he looked like shit. That wasn't anything surprising, though, he _felt_ like shit. His whole _life_ was currently shit, as a matter of fact.

"At least I missed any big veins or anything. Wouldn't do to die and let… them…" His voice trailed off. Then he violently shook his head, which only made him dizzy. When his head had cleared somewhat, he completed his sentence, smiling at his reflection cheerfully. "Wouldn't do to let _them_ have the satisfaction of seeing how much they affected me, huh, Duo old buddy?"

He laughed a little at himself. "Not like anyone's going to answer… hey, isn't talking to yourself a sign of insanity? Or is that having a voice actually answering back? I suppose if there's a voice in your head that would count as insanity, but if you're just talking to yourself and there's no answer? Is that insanity? Hmm… maybe I'll do a little research someday."

He began to turn away, but then paused. Slowly he turned back, staring at himself – or actually, staring at his own eyes. They looked… dull. Dead. The light didn't seem to gleam off them, as it should. Instead, it seemed to Duo as if the light was being sucked in.

"Well, that figures," he murmured, straightening. "Something died in me, something big. So there has to be a physical change, or else I'd have felt cheated. Might as well be my eyes, since they're my best feature, I've always thought. Wonder if anyone else will notice? It'll be hard to explain away, if they do…"

He turned around again, and stared at the drips of blood on the floor. "None of them near the floor mat, good. But where's the knife…? I knew I threw it somewhere… _there_." Bending down, he picked up the small razor and dropped it in the sink for washing later. Then he tore off some toilet paper and began cleaning up all the blood.

"Sheesh, I did this? Man, I'm really lucky I didn't get anything important, like nerves or big veins," he muttered, irritated with himself. "I'm making _damn_ sure I'm never going to be this weak again, otherwise I just _might_ die like this one day. Imagine the shame! Shinigami should only die an honourable death, in battle or saving a friend or at the hands of a better opponent or something."

He flushed the tissues down the toilet, checked once again that the bathroom was clean, then turned to the sink to rinse the knife. It was one of his own knives, so it was easy to clean, being simple in design by having no design at all. All his weapons were the same; there was no point in having a flashy weapon since it didn't serve any purpose except to give you a hell of a time trying to get all the gore out of it after it was used.

Drying the knife with a cloth, he set it aside for the time being and looked down at his blood-encrusted thighs. "Damn…" he murmured. "I'll have to bandage them if I don't want them to crack open and start bleeding again on the next mission." He sighed, then gingerly peeled off his boxers, careful not to stain them, and tossed them next to his jeans. Then he took off his t-shirt, dropping it on top of the pile of clothes, and stepped into the shower. Keeping his braid out of the way, he began carefully washing his cuts.

They bled a little, but he felt no pain

When all traces of blood were gone, he dried himself, and then sat on the covered toilet seat with the first-aid kit they always kept in the bathrooms in Quatre's larger safe houses. He efficiently bandaged his thighs, keeping the wrapping thin, so as to hide their presence. Done, he set the slightly less round roll of bandages back into the box and replaced it exactly as he had found it. Then he put on his clothes, and surveyed the small room. Did he miss anything…? No, there was no trace of his self-mutilation attempt. Good. He wouldn't want Quatre to worry.

He picked up his knife and stuck his head out of the bathroom, checking to see if there was anybody walking in the hallway. No one, good. He hurried out and quickly made it to his room, where he slipped on his boots and slid the knife back into his right boot. He gave himself a once-over in the mirror, and flashed himself a bright grin. "That's right, Duo, keep smiling, 'cause you can't hurt any more than you've _been_ hurt."

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of his room and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen, where he could smell dinner. When he entered the cheerfully lit room, he noticed Trowa balancing five plates on his arms, crossing the short distance between the stove and the table where the others were seated. "Hey, Tro, need help with those?"

"No," was the simple answer as Trowa reached the table safely, and Quatre helped him unload the dishes. "I have a better sense of balance than you do."

Duo pouted. "Aw, that's mean, man!" he protested, but sat down without further ado. "Looks and smells great! Outdid yourself again. Would you mind cooking tomorrow, too?"

"It's your turn."

"Surely you don't _want_ to eat my cooking?" Duo's eyes were wide in mock-disbelief.

"No shirking. Eat your food."

Duo saluted him. "Yes, sir!"

They ate in relative silence, enjoying the food – Trowa was the best cook, and they always looked forward to the days when it was his turn to do so. It was only when Duo put down his bowl of rice (they were having Chinese) that Quatre spoke.

"Duo, want some more?"

The braided boy made a face. "Nah, I'm quite full already."

Quatre persisted. "You're too pale, Duo, you should eat more to keep your strength up. Are you sure you're feeling fine? You sounded weird in the bathroom just now."

There was a distinct muffled snigger. Quatre blinked at Wufei, surprised, while Duo turned a blank stare on him. "Sorry," the Chinese pilot murmured, face straight.

"What is it?" Quatre asked, confused, sneaking a worried glance at Duo's expressionless face.

"He sounded _weird_, did he?" Wufei still did not look up. "Perhaps because he… swallowed his own medicine."

The sound of a chair scraping the floor was harsh in the otherwise suddenly quiet room, and everyone looked up at Duo, who had abruptly stood. He flashed them a cheerful smile. "I'm full. Don't worry, Quatre. It's nothing, just a headache. I'll be in my room, and I'd like it if no one comes in, thanks."

He left quickly, and they heard his door close after a while. Quatre immediately rounded on Wufei. "Okay, what did you do?" he hissed, glaring at him. "You did something to Duo and I want to know exactly what it is!"

Wufei shrugged, a smile playing about his lips. "It's nothing, really. Just a little joke on Duo, to pay back all the times he's played tricks on us. He has become increasingly irritating these past few weeks."

"Well, I think it's one joke gone too far! What did you do?"

Wufei jerked his head towards Heero, who was quietly eating. "I let _him_ do it. He's the victim most of the time, after all."

Quatre turned expectant eyes on Heero.

The Japanese pilot looked up. "See for yourself. It's in the video recorder in the living room."

"You _taped_ it? Whatever it is."

A shrug. "Wufei's idea. He hasn't watched it yet, though."

"You can watch it first," Wufei offered. "I still have a mission report to write up."

"Thanks," Quatre said, voice laced with sarcasm, but Wufei ignored him. The blond grabbed Trowa's hand and dragged him along. He found the recorder with no problems, and plugged it in to recharge. Then he turned it on, and watched as Duo's room came into focus on the small screen.

He had a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

Finally! The rewrite I promised. (: Five chapters all revised, and the sixth in progress. 

And no, the fifth chapter isn't the April Fools chapter. I have repented of my sin regarding that one. I do apologise.

**Ashen Skies  
**"_It's nothing, really. Just a little joke…"_


	2. Chapter Two: Joke

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write. Thank you.

**Pairings**: 1x2, 3x4, 5xnot decided

**Timeline**: During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating**: R. Perhaps NC-17 later.

**Warnings**: Self-mutilation. Angst, angst, angst.

**Summary**: Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far**

_Chapter Two_

_

* * *

_

Trowa and Quatre watched as Heero came into view, sitting down on Duo's bed, which was in the centre of the screen. After a while, they could hear cheerful whistling, and Duo entered, stopping just inside the frame. Even though the images were small, they were very clear; Heero expected nothing less than the best in whatever he did, including his equipment.

"_Heero!"_ Duo exclaimed, surprise in his tinny video-recorded voice. _"What are you doing here?"_

"_Waiting for you,"_ Heero said evenly, standing.

"_Whatever it is I did it wasn't me,"_ Duo said quickly. Then he paused. _"Wait, but I haven't done anything recently! Well, not to you, at least."_

"_No. I am not angry at you."_

"_Really? Oh, thank goodness. Then why are you here?"_ Duo took a few steps forward, bringing him in front of Heero and directly into the centre of the picture.

"_You barely made it back alive on the last mission,"_ Heero stated.

"_Well, yes, but that was hardly my fault, it's not like I didn't do my best and I completed the mission, anyway,"_ Duo said defensively.

"_Yes. I know."_

Duo blinked, clearly lost. _"Then?"_

"_I was planning to wait until the end of the war. When we had peace. Then I would tell you. But the last mission made me realize… I couldn't wait anymore."_

A nervous laugh. _"Uh, Heero, you're scaring me here. Spit it out, man."_

"No_…_" Quatre whispered. Trowa glanced at the blond, seeing those light blue eyes widen. "No, it can't be…"

"_I love you, Duo."_

Quatre shook his head hard, not wanting to believe what he had heard. "No, no, no, no…" he whispered. Trowa reached over to pry open his clenched fist, and as he laced his fingers through Quatre's, he closed his own eyes briefly, equally pained.

"_What?"_ Duo's mouth hung open. _"This is a joke, right?"_

"_Do I joke?"_

"_Heero, come on, this isn't funny."_

"_Do I joke?"_ Heero repeated.

"…_No."_

"_Hn."_

Heero stepped forward and pressed himself close to Duo, wrapping his arms around him. He was slightly shorter, though not by much, and a slight tilt of his head was all that he needed to kiss Duo, one hand behind the taller boy's head to hold it there.

Duo stiffened, but then relaxed. Quatre and Trowa watched in silence as his lips parted, and they began kissing deeply. Duo moaned deep in his throat, arms going around Heero as well. After a while they broke apart for air.

Violet eyes were glazed, though Heero's gaze was as clear and intense as ever… and no warmer than before. It was a calculative gaze, one unaffected by what was happening. _"I want you, Duo,"_ he said quietly, forcefully, nibbling Duo's ear, making his way down to Duo's throat as he spoke. _"I want to take you right here and now, and pound you deep into the mattress. I want to hear you plead with me, hear you screaming and groaning and moaning my name. I want to watch you writhe and arch underneath me, bucking and grinding your hips. I want to lick every inch of you and suck you dry. I want you helpless and painfully aroused underneath me, shamelessly begging me to make you my slut. I want you on your knees, pretty naked ass thrusting into the air, begging me to fuck you and make you mine."_

Duo was a whimpering, helpless mess by then, head thrown back to allow Heero better access to his throat, clearly aroused as he pushed his hips against Heero. _" Heero,"_ he gasped. _"Heero, Heero… I want you. I've wanted this for so long."_

"_Are you sure?"_ Heero murmured. _"Do you trust me that much?"_

"_You love me, don't you? I trust you. I love you."_

Quatre's grip on Trowa's hand tightened until his knuckles were white, but Trowa didn't feel it as he was holding on equally hard. They watched as Heero pushed Duo onto the bed. _"Lie down,"_ he ordered, and Duo crawled to the middle of the bed, sprawling spread-eagle on it. Heero crawled on top of him, straddling him, leaning down to give Duo a long, searing kiss.

Finally, Heero pulled back, and sat there watching Duo trying to get his breath back. Then in one smooth motion he pulled Duo's T-shirt off him and threw it somewhere behind him, and then leaned down again to lick and kiss Duo's body, one hand going further down, drawing whimpers from the braided boy.

"_Heero…"_ Duo moaned, hands coming up to tangle themselves in Heero's hair. The Japanese boy lifted his mouth and lightly blew at the wet skin, causing Duo to whimper again. Heero proceeded to lick his way down to Duo's navel, pausing there while his fingers made quick work of Duo's fly. He sat up long enough to pull the jeans off Duo, leaving him clad only in boxers.

"_You look like a slut, Duo,"_ Heero hissed, rubbing Duo through the thin material of his boxers. _"Are you a slut? Are you enjoying this?"_

"_Yes, yes, I am, anything, please…"_

"_Please?"_

"_Please fuck me, make me yours, take me now, shove that cock into my ass and screw me!"_

Heero smirked and shifted off the American, pulling off the boxers as he did so, leaving Duo naked. _"Turn over, Duo."_

He obeyed immediately.

"_Stick your ass into the air. Let me take you like the slut you are."_

Duo, face down on the mattress, pulled his knees forward so that he was kneeling with his ass hovering in mid-air, exposed. Heero smirked again. _"Do you know how sluttish you look right now, Duo? Do you?"_

A moan was his only answer.

"_Ninmu kanryou."_

Everything froze. Duo, Heero, Trowa, Quatre, the very air. Then Heero, expressionless, got up from the bed, walking towards the camera. He fiddled with it, and then the screen went blank.

Quatre and Trowa simply sat there for a few seconds, staring at the blank screen, unmoving. Then Quatre carefully put the recorder down, pulled his hand out of Trowa's, and stood. His fists were clenched, eyes cold, and he moved towards the door with deliberate calmness – the calm he always exuded in battle, when he was about to execute a massively destructive plan. Trowa swiftly stood and followed, but he wasn't sure if it was to help the blond or stop him.

He wasn't sure of anything, anymore.

They stopped in the living room, where Heero was typing on his laptop and Wufei was writing his report, which he would transfer onto Heero's laptop later. Sensing their presence, both looked up. Upon seeing them, Heero calmly shut the lid on his computer and set it aside, while Wufei frowned, puzzled at the deadly air both were exuding.

"What did you tell Heero to do?" Quatre said coldly to Wufei.

"Bring Maxwell to his knees, naked, if he could manage it. Begging to be taken." Wufei shrugged. "He's probably used to it. It's not like he does not flirt with everyone he meets. A small revenge for the infinite number of jokes he has played on all of us ever since we met. The video will make good blackmail material – it was the Peacecraft onna's idea, actually, a surprisingly good one. She managed to find me on a mission once and spent the entire day trailing me." He scowled a little. "I had to promise her to get her to go away. I admit, I had my misgivings at first, but then she reminded me of Duo's actions, and once I promise something I don't go back on my word."

Quatre was a blur as he moved, and the next second, a sickening _thud_ resounded in the room. The blond stood over Wufei, eyes blazing; the Chinese youth had a hand to his cheekbone, which had split and was beginning to bleed. His onyx eyes were wide with disbelief. The second blow to his stomach left him doubled over, gasping for air.

"Quatre."

The blond looked over at Trowa, who had moved to his side. The green-eyed boy shook his head. "Enough. We still need them to fight."

"One more," he snapped, and spun around to face a standing, expressionless Heero. A few strides and he was glaring into Heero's face. "You… I don't know how you can even call yourself _human_ anymore. That was – that –" he was at a loss for words, his entire body trembling in fury.

Trowa stepped forward and gently pulled Quatre aside. "Let me," he said quietly, and calmly dealt Heero a blow on the face that would have broken a normal man's jaw, immediately followed by one more to his gut. Heero doubled over, and dropped to the ground

"_Ninmu kanryou_ – mission accomplished. It was all a carefully planned, carefully manipulative _mission_? You heartless, soulless –" Quatre stopped, breathing hard. "I've never heard more damning words, Heero Yuy. Let me tell you both. Duo's a virgin. He's been saving himself for the one he _loves_. Think about that. I'm destroying the damn tape, and if _anything_ happens to Duo because of this, anything at all, you are dead men. Physically, anyway – I don't think there's much left inside you that could be considered _alive_."

They left without a backward glance. Heero and Wufei slowly sat up, wincing. Wufei massaged his face, and grumbled, "Okay, so maybe I made a mistake. L2's known for that sort of thing! How was I supposed to know he was a virgin, the way he acted? It's not like you actually did anything with him, did you?" Seeing Heero's slow shake of his head, Wufei scowled and added, "Besides, it's just _one_ joke compared to all the others he's played on us!"

Heero wasn't listening. He was staring at the doorway, his own fists clenched tightly, eyes curiously blank.

* * *

Heero can be such a little bastard, can't he? Wufei, too; he just won't admit he's wrong. 

More angst coming up!

**Ashen Skies  
**"_He wasn't sure of anything, anymore."_


	3. Chapter Three: Battle

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write. Thank you.

**Pairings**: 1x2, 3x4, 5xnot decided

**Timeline**: During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating**: R. Perhaps NC-17 later.

**Warnings**: Self-mutilation. Angst, angst, angst.

**Summary**: Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far**

_Chapter Three_

_

* * *

_

"Duo?"

"Yeah, Q?"

Quatre hesitated. He'd rushed straight up to Duo's room after confronting Heero and Wufei, but now that he was here, staring at a closed door, he was at a loss for what to say. What _could_ he say? "Um… would you like to talk about it?"

"About what?" came the unconcerned reply.

The blond exchanged a helpless glance with Trowa. "About whatever's making you… upset."

"Upset?" Laughter rang from inside the room. "I'm not upset, Q. It's just a headache."

"Duo, what happened to your 'no lying' policy?"

"Q, I really do have a headache, and you're making it worse."

"I _know_ something's wrong," Quatre said stubbornly.

"Why? Can you _feel_ that I'm upset?"

"No, and that's the problem, I can't feel _anything_ from you _at all_!" Quatre snapped. His anger was gone as quickly as it had come, and his distressed worry was evident in his voice as he continued, "Duo, it's like when I first met Trowa, all over again – I can't feel any emotion from you. You shouldn't hide, Duo, it's unhealthy –"

"And _not_ hiding is any better? It's training, Q, to control your emotions and not let what you're really feeling show. You can go ask Heero, he's got that bit down pat."

There was a definite trace of bitterness in Duo's voice, and Quatre sighed miserably. "Duo… we, uh… we…"

"Oh, great, Tro's there, too? Go on, shoo, both of you, I'm need to rest –"

"I just don't want you doing anything silly!" Quatre cried agitatedly.

"What things? Why would I do something _silly_, as you so politely put it? It's just a damned headache –"

"We watched it, Duo," Quatre said wretchedly, softly, but Duo heard it anyway.

There a moment of frozen silence.

"Watched…?"

"The video," Trowa said quietly when Quatre, his face buried in the taller boy's chest and trembling, didn't reply.

Silence, again. Then there was a loud sigh, and footsteps came towards the door, but Quatre didn't budge from Trowa's comforting arms. Duo opened the door, and green eyes observed the momentary flash of wistful sorrow in violet ones as Duo took in the lovers in front of him. Trowa felt Quatre's body jerk as the emotion flashed by, and let out a soft whimper.

"Quatre?" he murmured, worried, as the blond turned around to face Duo, who simply opened his arms. Trowa let go as Quatre hurled himself into Duo's embrace so hard that the boy staggered back a few steps before regaining his balance and hugged Quatre back equally as hard as Trowa suspected Quatre was hugging Duo.

"Shh, it's okay, _I'm_ okay, don't worry, Quat, things're gonna be fine…" Duo murmured reassurances until Quatre's trembling stopped and light blue eyes turned a pained gaze up into violet ones.

"You're _not_ fine," Quatre said quietly but firmly. "The video – gods, Duo, it was _awful_, Wufei and Heero are inhuman to have done that to you, and, oh, Duo, _no one_ can remain unaffected by something like that so don't you dare try to write it off like nothing happened! When you saw us outside your door I felt your _anguish_, Duo. I know you love Heero –"

"Quat!" Duo snapped, stopping the blond mid-rant. In a much more gentle voice, he continued, "That's all in the past. What's done is done, there's not a damn thing we can do to change it. I'm just going to forget it and move on, so can you _please_ stop dragging shit up again?"

Quatre blinked up at Duo. "But – you're _hiding_ from me –"

Duo rolled his eyes and ruffled Quatre's hair affectionately. "Quatre, can you blame me if I need to control myself after something like that? I mean, I could go around moping and being all depressed and suicidal if I let my emotions go, but that's silly. Or do you_ want_ me to?"

"Er – no –"

"And when I saw you two, of course I feel upset – I've just been dumped (technically, anyway) and I see you two cuddling!"

Blue eyes widened. "Oh, Duo, I'm sorry! We won't do –"

"Hey, hey, I never said to stop it!" Duo glared playfully, lightly pushing Quatre towards a silently observing Trowa. "You shouldn't have to restrain yourselves for me. I'm happy that you have each other; I was the one to knock sense into both of you, remember? Don't let my efforts go to waste now. Just don't start making out or something in front of me," he joked. "But, really, anything you felt just now was probably your own emotions making a big deal out of mine. Give me a bit of time and I'll have forgotten all this nonsense."

Quatre frowned. It was all very well and good, and perfectly reasonable, but there was _something_ wrong about this whole scene that he couldn't put his finger on… something… something… slightly _too_ reasonable…?

He felt Trowa stiffen behind him and Duo tense slightly, and turned to see Heero standing at the corner that hid the stairs from the corridor they were in. "We have a mission," the Japanese boy said quietly. "All five. Gundams."

Quatre nodded coolly. "We'll be right down," he said, not bothering to hide his vindictive satisfaction at the way Heero's jaw was slowly but surely turning black and blue.

Heero turned and disappeared around the corner without another word. They stared at the empty space for a second before Duo's voice turned two gazes back to him. "Er… what happened to his jaw?"

"I hit him," Trowa said calmly.

"Ah. For me?"

"Yes."

"Oh, great. Tro-man, Quat, this is just what I _didn't_ want. Look, they're entitled to a little revenge after all I did to them. Granted, it wasn't the best way, but hey – I got Heero to touch me after all!"

"Duo, you can't mean that –"

Duo continued as if he hadn't heard Quatre. "Don't let this affect our relationship as pilots, guys. We need to work together, and that includes Heero and Wufei. I need you to forget about this and don't let it change what we all have between us."

"But Duo –" Quatre tried again.

"Stop right there," Duo interrupted, holding up a hand. "I mean it. Come on, let's get ready for the mission, huh?" He gently pushed the two of the in the direction of their room before wriggling his fingers at them in a small farewell and going back into his own room, closing the door.

Quatre frowned at the wood and opened his mouth – and closed it again when Trowa put his hand over it. He turned to look pleadingly at his lover, but Trowa shook his head. "It'll do no good to confront him now," he said softly. "You know how stubborn he is. We need to give him time."

They held each other's gaze for a long moment, Trowa's steadiness countering Quatre's frustration, until the blond let out a heavy sigh and threw up his hands. Turning on his heel, he stalked down the hallway to their room, and with a last worried glance at the closed door Trowa followed.

Once he heard their footsteps leading off, Duo let out a quiet sigh and pushed himself off the door he'd been leaning on. He hadn't counted on Trowa and Quatre knowing what had happened, though he should have known they would find out sooner or later. He didn't want the two of them hurt physically because they were too busy worrying and not paying attention on a mission – or hurt mentally because they worried for him.

He needed to pretend things were fine, because he still cared for them, all of them – he just didn't feel any of the emotions that came with caring, except for the need to protect them all. No worry, no anger, no hurt, no betrayal – everything was shoved into the Void, the name he'd given the place he thought of as his emotional black hole. It was a major part of how he became Shinigami every time he fought – all his emotions just went away, letting him do his job for the moment.

Wufei had caught him off-guard in the kitchen; he hadn't expected the gloating so fast. Heero sure didn't waste any time… no, why would he? They wouldn't have wanted to wait to lord it over him. Why should they, anyway, when he made it a point to gloat loud and clear and in their face whenever he himself played a joke?

His control needed work. And what better way to do it than in battle, when the thrill of the fight would drive his emotions even deeper into the Void, and serve to glue the mask even more firmly on his face? Checking himself in the mirror, he nodded in satisfaction. Everything was in place. Jamming the black cap onto his head, he stuck a grin on and left the room.

The others were not going to be affected by _his_ weakness if he could help it.

* * *

"Diediediediediedie –" 

"04 to 02, are you okay?"

"Of course! _Ring around the rosies, a pocketful of posies_ –"

"04 to 02, you're being…"

"Being what? _Ow! Damn _that's going to take me a day to repair! Go to –"

"Being too bloodthirsty."

"Bloodthirsty? Hell, Tr – er, 03, MS don't have blood, only oil and fluid. Look how it sprays when you cut the head off! Isn't it beautiful? _– and we all fall down!_"

"05 to 02. Shut up."

"Aw, is widdle Wu – 05 being distracted by some _weakling_? Damn, 05 doesn't have the same snap."

"01 to 02. Be quiet."

"I'll damn well be as noisy as I _like_, 01, _sir_!"

Trowa blinked when Quatre opened up a private channel between them. "Something's really, really wrong, Trowa. I feel this overwhelming bloodlust and fury from Duo, but behind that – nothing. He's never felt this way before. He's always been loudmouthed, but the feelings behind it were suppressed guilt and sadness and helplessness, with some battle lust thrown in, but never this… apathetic killing. And he's being so _reckless_, Trowa…"

Trowa considered it silently as he blasted a few more Leos. "We'll just keep an eye on him," he said at last. "We can't do anything else now."

"I know that, but even so – oh _damn_."

They cut their connection abruptly as two whole squadrons of enemy MS appeared from a previously hidden underground hanger. Duo dove in headfirst, his scythe sweeping in deadly, graceful arches, slicing through metal easily. Heero and Wufei, who were closer to the new enemy than Trowa and Quatre, were right behind him. The remaining couple were left to deal with what remained of the original army.

The significantly larger amount of enemy suits meant that the other pilots had no choice but to resignedly tuning out Duo's chatter, in order to focus – they couldn't spare time arguing with him to stop. The braided boy knew that, but it didn't prevent him from trying all the harder to annoy them – Wufei and Heero especially.

Finally he heard an angry, "02, urusai!"

_Hah! Not so emotionless now, Yuy!_ "Ooh, is the Perfect Soldier unable to focus? That's weird, since you could concentrate _so well_ earlier in the day –"

"Du – 02, stop it."

_He was about to call me Duo. Why? And why doesn't he sound angry anymore? Why do I care, anyway? He's nothing to me._ "Yeah, yeah, you're distracted, you're losing it, admit – "

"Dammit, 02!"

_The anger's back._ Why was he feeling disappointed and glad at the same time? "Oh, so you're losing your control _and_ your temper! Tsk tsk, how sa –"

"01! Left!"

Duo's eyes widened as he saw what Wufei had noticed. "_No_!" he screamed, seeing Heero bring up his arm, but he could tell it wouldn't be in time to counter the downward sweep of the laser.

Time stopped.

_It's my fault._

_It's _my_ fault._

_I distracted him on purpose, I didn't even stop to consider –_

_What kind of friend am I?_

_All I do is hurt others, and cause them to be hurt. I make them worry. I play pointless pranks that distract them from real work; I annoy them to the point of hate. What use am I, except to fight?_

_How am I worthy of loving him?_

_How am I?_

_I'm not. _

_But even so I still… even knowing my love kills, I still…_

_I still…_

_I do, don't I?_

_Love…_

Something inside him broke, and Quatre screamed.

Duo moved without thinking, leaping forward, deaf to his surroundings and ignoring the sudden tightness in his chest, his throat, that strangled the sob that threatened to spill from his mouth –

Wing was pushed aside, and Deathscythe's cockpit exploded.

Quatre's scream broke off suddenly as he slumped over his controls, but Trowa was there, deadly in his worry and dread. Heero and Wufei were like madmen, whirling and cutting and blasting, and suddenly they were all yelling, screaming threats and anger and Quatre and Duo's names.

And then it was all over.

Metal and bodies were splayed all over the field, but the pilots were focused on two in particular. Heero was out of his cockpit even before Wing had fully settled next to the fallen Deathscythe, scrambling down his mobile suit without care for burns or scrapes. All he could see was the cockpit of Deathscythe, gaping wide open; the stroke had sliced it in half, igniting fuel and causing the blast. Wufei was halfway down Shenlong, not being driven by quite the same level of frenzy as Heero was.

There was nobody in the cockpit, but Heero's knees almost gave out in relief before he caught himself as he saw that there wasn't any blood – it meant that whatever injuries Duo had, they would be because he was thrown from the cockpit, not because the laser had gotten him. The restraints were torn, and it took him only a second of scrutiny before he come up with the general direction Duo had been thrown in. Scrambling over the debris, Wufei behind him, it was a good five minutes before he finally unearthed Duo's limp body, and his heart almost stopped at the sight.

"_Duo!"_

Was that his own voice choking on Duo's name?

He gripped the large piece of metal that pinned Duo's legs down and heaved. For once he was glad for the unnatural strength J had given him, as he dropped down on his knees to access the damage. A broken knee, judging by the angle, with the other one probably only dislocated. A huge gash on his chest was bleeding sluggishly, but there didn't seem to be any head injuries, and everywhere he looked he could see bruises, cuts and abrasions – but all in all, only the chest wound was life-threatening. It was almost a miracle. It _was_ a miracle, and he sent a silent prayer to a God he was suddenly willing to believe in.

His hands were moving before his brain caught up, taking off what was left of Duo's black outer shirt and tearing it into strips. Wufei arrived, and Heero wordlessly handed the cloth to him. The Chinese boy grimly continued to tear the cloth as Heero moved to Duo's dislocated knee. He judged the angle and carefully placed his hands on Duo's leg.

Wufei looked up. "Yuy?"

Thankful that Duo was unconscious, Heero pulled with one hand and pushed with the other, and the knee snapped into place. Duo's body gave a reflexive jerk, but that was all.

Heero looked up to see Wufei turning pale, eyes wide. He shook his head and took the cloth from Wufei's hands to begin binding Duo's torso. The Chinese pilot shook off his daze and helped, and soon Duo was ready to be moved. Careful of Duo's injuries, he picked the boy up, and they made their way to their Gundams.

Wufei helped him get back into his cockpit, and once he was sealed in, he opened the channel they had been using and snapped, "03?"

"01. I'm fine and I have 04. I can't wake him up, but he's unhurt. 02?"

Heero's arms tightened reflexively around the body in his arms. "He needs medical attention back at the safe house. Deathscythe is down." He took a deep breath, ran through a few options in his mind, then ordered, "05, salvage what you can and then carry Deathscythe back to the safe house. Hide it with yours. 03, since 04 is unhurt help 05 to salvage and then carry Sandrock back. I will head to the safehouse first; I need to attend to 02 at the quickest opportunity."

He received two confirmations as he powered Wing back up and took off for the safe house. The entire way there he was focused on his goal, checking Duo's status every few seconds. He didn't let himself think, or feel, just concentrated on getting Duo back and well again.

He made it back to the house in record time, and hurriedly camouflaged Wing – he'd come back and do a better job later. Then he brought Duo into the house, laid him on the couch, and went to get medical supplies.

As he came back to the room he'd put Duo in, he forced himself to relax a little. Duo didn't need him to be tense while he tended to his wounds; it would do more harm than good. And with the forced relaxation, his mind began to work again, and with it came unwelcome thoughts.

He tried to concentrate on cleaning and sewing the large gash up, but thoughts chased themselves around his head, clothed in denial and soldier instincts. Grimly, he set about getting his thoughts straight as he worked. By the time he cut the thread and tied it off, he'd come to a decision with his usual efficient speed.

Duo was a distraction. Somehow Heero had come to value Duo much too highly, and that caused him to worry for the idiot, which in turn caused a loss of concentration and Duo had gotten hurt. And he had done something wrong with that joke on Duo, but he didn't know how to fix it, since he didn't know exactly _what_ he had done wrong. Was it tricking Duo? Was it the seduction? Was it the touching? He didn't _know_. He wanted so badly to, but he didn't understand what had happened, it wasn't something he'd been taught.

The only thing he knew was that he'd done something unforgivable, judging from Quatre's and Trowa's reactions – especially from Trowa, seeing how he was normally so restrained – and that scared him. He didn't know how to make things right, and that scared him. He didn't understand what he was feeling for Duo, and that scared him, too.

Then there was the fact that he had accepted Wufei's challenge in the first place because he thought of Duo in a different way from the rest. He had the vague idea that there was something morally wrong with what he'd planned, but he hadn't been taught anything like that, and his fascination with Duo had overcome those vague feelings. He'd wanted to know how Duo would react, how Duo felt like. And now that he'd seen Duo, touched the smooth skin and kissed those full lips and held him, he wanted more. But he could not have more, because Duo had been hurt because of it. And he could not control what he felt, no matter how hard he tried.

He felt anger rising – directed at nothing, really, because there wasn't anything concrete to direct it at – because what scared him, what he didn't understand, what he couldn't' control, made him angry. He pushed the feeling down with difficulty.

If he stayed with Duo, if Duo stayed with him, either of them would get hurt, or get others hurt. And he would hurt Duo, or cause Duo to get hurt. And he could not have that. All this worry was detrimental to the missions. After the war, he would learn to understand Duo, understand what he did wrong, and make things up to him. But now…

Now, he needed to distance himself from Duo. That was all there was to it.

* * *

Hope it's more coherent now, after the revamp. 

**Ashen Skies  
**"_How am I worthy of loving him?"_


	4. Chapter Four: Consequences

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write. Thank you.

**Pairings**: 1x2, 3x4, 5x[not decided]

**Timeline**: During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating**: R. Perhaps NC-17 later.

**Warnings**: Self-mutilation. Angst, angst, angst.

**Summary**: Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far**

_Chapter Four_

_

* * *

  
_

_Agony. Love. Helplessness. Love. Terror love agony lovehatelovepainlove…_

_No._

"No!"

Quatre jerked awake, his scream dying on his lips as he registered the feeling of being held. He opened his eyes and saw the relief in Trowa's face, and he could see in those green eyes that he was forcibly restraining himself from crushing Quatre in his embrace by hugging too tightly.

"Quatre?" Trowa murmured. "Are you alright?"

"I'm –" He coughed, then cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm fine. Duo isn't, though…"

Shuddering, Quatre remembered the exact moment when he'd seen the inevitable outcome of things and had been helpless to stop it. The exact moment when he'd felt Duo break, felt him give in to the emotions screaming to be let out. He remembered the despairing, desperate love, and the horrifying agony. Oh, the _pain_ Duo was in… he should have known. Duo pretended everything was fine, he even comforted _Quatre_, but he should have _known_! What kind of friend was he?

"Where's Duo?" he asked, panic rising, struggling to sit up. "Why am I in Heavyarms? Where's Heero? I need to see Duo. Trowa –"

"Quatre, love…"

"What now?" he said warily, seeing the torn look on Trowa's face.

"On the way back to the safe house we received orders. The two of us."

"_What_?"

"It's urgent, an immediate mission… we have to go. I already spent too much time trying to wake you up, and if we don't go _now_, we won't make it."

Quatre bit his lip. "Alright, I'll contact Duo via radio –"

"He's still unconscious. Heero's taking care of him."

Light blue eyes narrowed. "I don't like the idea of leaving Duo with those two –"

"Wufei's on another mission. I asked. S said that he'd be gone for the next month or so. Ours lasts a couple of weeks."

"So he's in a house alone with _Heero_?" Quatre cried, dismayed.

"Better than with Wufei, too. We can't do anything about it, love."

Blue eyes narrowed. "Fine," the Arabian said finally. He got to his feet with Trowa's help, scowling. "But I'm going to talk to Heero on the way, if nothing else!"

Trowa's lips quirked in a smile. "I wouldn't dream of stopping you."

* * *

The rest of this chapter is pretty much **NC-17**.

_I REPEAT:_

**NC-17.**

**Maybe even ****R21**, if you're really squeamish.**  
**

But the following part is one of the main parts of the story, so if you get too freaked out and decide to stop reading, you should stop reading the entire story too, because the rest of it won't make much sense if you don't read this chap.

I repeat: **WARNING,** much squick and angst and blood and sort-of-but-not-really-non-consensual-sex coming up!

**VERY EXPLICIT STUFF BELOW, READ AT OWN RISK.**

* * *

Duo listened to Heero sigh as Quatre disconnected the line after a good ten minutes of warning him not to hurt Duo and threatening him bodily harm in various creative ways if he did, with a few furious insults thrown in. Heero hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, right up to the end of the call. It was sweet, in a detached sort of way, that Quatre cared like that, but it meant that his control wasn't good enough, and he'd made Quatre worry. It was probably that little outburst of his just before he'd gone suicidal between Wing and that Leo.

It wouldn't happen again.

He heard Heero come into the room – judging by the feel of the surface he was on, he'd been placed in his own bed. His stomach hurt, but it was a tight pain that told him the wound had been stitched. One knee ached dully, but seemed to be fine, the other – broken, but not yet set. His shirt was gone, but the pants weren't. Good. Heero hadn't seen.

"I know you're awake, Duo."

Damn, how did he _do_ that? "Yeah."

"I need to check your knee, I think it's broken."

A weight lowering the bed on his right, hands on his hips, _no_ not the pants! _If he finds out about the cuts he'll feel guilty and stay with me because he feels guilty and I don't want that, I don't want that at all… _Duo's eyes flew open to see Heero leaning over him, and instinctively he reached up and yanked Heero down for an open-mouthed kiss, all tongue and teeth and bruising.

Heero groaned, low, deep in his throat, and in the first few stunned seconds tried to pull away but Duo wouldn't let him, because he had the feeling that if he let Heero get over the surprise, he wouldn't get a second chance again. He used all the tricks he knew until Heero gave in, kissing back with equal ferocity, mouth open against his and tongues clashing in each other's mouths until they were both breathless and had to pull apart, only to dive back in again after a quick harsh breath. Heero slipped his hands behind Duo's head, gripping, trapping, and Duo let him, submissive under the possessive attack as tongue and teeth and lips laid claim to his.

Duo's lips felt thoroughly, wonderfully violated, his lips painfully yet deliciously swollen, his cock hard and needing more, when Heero finally pulled back. The Japanese boy lay his head on Duo's chest as they both got their breath back; the only sound in the room that of their panting.

And when Heero raised his head to speak, Duo beat him to it. "That was nice," he purred, using his most seductive look, knowing that lust darkened his eyes to a deep purple. His hands, too, were busy; one rubbing the bulge pressed against his side and the other teasing one of Heero's nipples though the thin tank top. The Japanese bucked helplessly into those hands.

"I know you want me, Heero. I can feel it, _could_ feel it before. You meant everything you said. You want to take me, pound me deep into the mattress, hear me plead, hear me scream and groan and moan your name. You want to watch me writhe and arch under you, bucking and grinding. You want to lick every inch of me and suck me dry. You want me helpless and painfully aroused under you, shamelessly begging to be your slut. You want me on my knees, ass thrusting into the air, begging you to fuck me and make me yours. _You want me_."

Heero was whimpering slightly as Duo's hand slipped inside the stretchy spandex and cupped his leaking erection, and he let out a helpless moan when one thumb began rubbing slowly over the head. With Duo's body undulating against his, Heero was in no condition to think clearly. If he was, he might remember that Duo's knee was broken. He might realize that Duo had just repeated almost the exact same words he'd thrown out just a day ago, in the same order, the same tone. He might realize Duo was watching him intently, his every move and his every reaction, with eyes that were lust-filled yet also shone with a clarity, a kind of a painful hopeless love.

But he saw and heard none of that, he could only feel the pleasure he was receiving under skilled hands of a kind he'd never, ever felt before and had no idea how to deal with, how to fight, how to resist. He couldn't think. And Duo would not have it any other way. He'd been trained for the art of seduction, the good doctor making full use of his natural good looks and body, and an inexperienced partner like Heero was all too easy to manipulate and bring to the point of mindless pleasure.

"Do you feel how good it is, Heero? I bet you've never pleasured yourself before. I bet yesterday was the first time you've ever said words like _fuck_ and _slut_. I bet someone else touching you is so new that you can't control your reactions, can you? I've received training, you know, about sexual pleasure and how to give it. I can make you feel good, Heero, and I already am, aren't I?"

Words were just sounds, meaningless except for the way his groin wept at the feeling of being tortured by skilled hands and the husky lust in every syllable, the seduction in every nuance. Heero moaned again and thrust down against the hand that stroked him. "More…" he managed to choke out.

And Duo obeyed, loving each helpless moan and dying each time he heard it. He didn't want this – didn't want his first time in some dingy safe house that they would probably never see again – but this was for Heero. Because Heero needed this, needed some way to let go yet take control, calm his hormones and vent his pent-up emotions. He'd told the truth just now – yesterday he'd seen the _want_ in Heero's eyes, and he'd felt Heero's need to rival his own, even if Heero himself didn't seem to realize it. For all Heero might think himself in control, Duo could recognize lust when he saw it, and he was the only one who could take the brunt of Heero's uncontrolled passions; the only one Heero trusted enough, _wanted_ enough to do it with.

No. That wasn't it, was it?

_I make it sound so noble, so good,_ he thought helplessly to himself as he used one hand to tug Heero into straddling his chest, the other hand still stroking that erect cock under confining spandex. _But the truth is… I'm selfish. I want him. I want him to be my first; I want to be his first. And if I let him go now, I won't ever have a chance to touch him like this again._

Because the Perfect Soldier didn't feel emotions, didn't form attachments. He'd made it so clear, time and again. And there was only one choice left for Duo, now. He would take this from Heero, just this once, and consequences be damned.

Mouths devouring each other, feverish skin sliding, arousing, Duo released Heero's cock, now wet with his own leaking cum, and lay passively on the bed, letting Heero take whatever he wanted, but careful to guide those bruising fingers and that carnal mouth above his waistline, always above. And Heero never noticed through his lust, gripping and biting and scraping American-pale skin without a care, leaving bruises and angry red streaks that he ignored in favour of feeling every inch of Duo, the little voice that pointed out Duo's face tasted slightly saltier, felt just that little bit wetter, going unheeded.

And Duo didn't stop him, even though every time Heero ground against him, his knee felt like it was on fire and the cuts on his thighs, having been re-opened, were bleeding through the thin wrapping, and he had numerous abrasions on his skin from Heero's rough handling. He gritted his teeth and bore the pain mutely, since Heero didn't seem to notice that he wasn't showing any indication of enjoying this; hadn't been ever since Heero had stretched out full-length on top of him and taken control. As long as Heero was happy, he wouldn't stop this; no matter how painful it was physically… and mentally, since Heero showed no signs of caring about his enjoyment. And that was what made the tears slide from under his closed eyelids and down his cheek, and he prayed that Heero would not notice.

_And even if he notices, would he care?_ a small voice whispered in his mind.

_He would,_ Duo thought back fiercely. _He has to._

_He has to._

A hand rubbed at his cock, another at his nipple, and his other nipple was being sucked and nibbled gently by a hot, wet mouth. Gasping, not expecting such tender treatment, Duo felt himself getting a little hard as he entertained the idea that perhaps Heero cared, after all. He let Heero unzip his pants and slip a hand under his boxers, and whimpered a little at the feeling of the Japanese boy's callused fingers taking hold of his cock. It was enough to make him fully hard; he'd wanted this for so long. He'd wished, and hoped, gotten close to Heero whenever possible, and perhaps, perhaps it was finally paying off.

_Heero… can you possibly, really do care?_

A thumb swiped roughly along the slit at the top of his cock and he whimpered, freezing with the sensation. Heero did it again; his eyes flew open as he bucked a little into the warm hand around his cock, and he stared up into cobalt shadowed with lust and need and – no trace of anything else.

Duo's breath caught.

Then the hand was gone, and he was roughly shoved over onto his front, Heero's hands yanking at the waistband of his pants and boxers. Even in his dazed state, Duo managed to slap those hands away and pull the cloth down just enough to bare his ass yet cover his bandages. Wasting no time, Heero pulled his cheeks apart, and Duo reflexively tried to clench them, but only succeeding in making his hole tighten. He heard a growl behind him, an animalistic sound, and then he almost screamed but caught himself in time as Heero shoved a saliva-slicked finger in. One thrust, two thrusts, and then Heero let go of him and he was about to turn to see what he was doing –

Unbearable pain screamed along his spine, originating from the large, thick cock rammed into him without care, without preparation, only Heero's own cum and Duo's own sudden blood for lube. He clenched his fists in the sheets, praying he wouldn't rip them as his eyes watered, biting clear through his lip to keep from making any noise, and chanted mentally _this is Heero, it's fine, it's Heero and Heero doesn't know, you can't blame him_ as that cock rammed into him again and again, managing to hit his sweet spot a few times but even that couldn't override the pain. He could hear Heero moaning, grunting, gasping as he set a hard and fast and furious pace, fingers like steep traps grabbing Duo's hips and pulling, pushing Duo to meet his own thrusts –

_It doesn't hurt it doesn't hurt it's Heero it doesn't hurt Heero won't hurt me it doesn't hurt oh god oh god oh god it – _

– and his knee was shattering into a million fiery pieces and his thighs were wet with blood spilling from his cuts and his entrance –

_hurts. _

– and then Heero froze, and cum was filling him, and for a second he felt saw heard tasted smelt everything around him, memorized the instant with crystalline clarity when Heero marked him, when Heero came –

_Hurts…_

– and it was over.

Heero slumped down on top of Duo, knocking the breath out of him, and the few seconds it took for Duo to get his breath back was apparently enough time for Heero to get his wits back after his first orgasm. Enough time for Duo's blossoming hope to crumble and die.

"Gods…"

Disgust. Clear, pure disgust in Heero's tenor-baritone, slightly nasal, to all appearances emotionless but actually full of tiny inflections that Duo nevertheless understood because he'd analyzed every bit of that faintly accented speech. An understanding that told him this disgust wasn't slight and it manifested itself blatantly in one syllable, along with undiluted fury.

"Damn it!"

The weight was gone, cool air suddenly washing over his back, and he heard Heero striding into the adjoining bathroom, muttering under his breath. Duo slowly flipped over onto his back, flinching, and pulled his knees up to his chest, snagging a blanket to cover himself and all the blood as he did so. A few agonizing minutes ticked past, and then the bathroom door was flung open so hard it rebounded against the wall, and Heero came out.

Some part of Duo cried out at the utterly emotionless face.

Heero stopped at the foot of the bed. His gaze slowly travelled from the blood-stained, crumpled blankets up to Duo's pale face. "You planned this," he said calmly, too-calmly. "You did, didn't you? Did you want me to feel guilty about it? You purposely made me lose my head, made use of my inexperience to make yourself into the victim so that I would be the aggressor. You can't be a virgin, you're too good at it – you lied to Quatre, didn't you? He trusted you. We all did. You made yourself out to be so pure and good, but it's all a lie. How many times have you lied to us all?"

_Lying is a sin, Duo. One of the worst. You not only betray your conscience, but you betray your friends and those who brought you up to be good. If there's one thing you learn from here, my child, let that be not lying. Let that be not betraying those who trust you and love you._

"Wufei's right, you were a whore. L2 is infamous for that, isn't it? It's said no one can grow up there without resorting to whoring, and that those who do eventually grow to like it, to become experts. You're one of them, aren't you? You must be."

_If ya meets some'un who wants yer body, run like hell, hear me? We may be rats, but we all still have limits t' how far we'll go. So never, ever sell yerself. If ya live to that age, save it fer th'one ya love._

"I wondered about it at first, you know. I had the nagging feeling that something was wrong, that I shouldn't do it, shouldn't play such a joke on you. But it was Relena's idea, and women are supposed to be more sensitive to such things, so I thought it would be alright. Wufei agreed. And now I see that they're right. It's all so clear, when I think about it now. I'm just worried that you might have transferred some sort of disease to me. I hope you're not as selfish as that. I'll assume whatever you have, it's non-transmittable."

Duo sat there numbly, watching the blank expression on Heero's face, the calm, reasonable words that nevertheless hurt like nothing he'd felt before. His eyes saw that perfect body without registering it, the glistening skin, the strong, lean, slim build that only a Gundam pilot would have with their unique training. The body he'd ruined with his selfish wants, his tainted touches.

He realized that Heero had stopped speaking and slowly raised his eyes to blank cobalt blue. Heero's eyes were terrifyingly emotionless. And then without another word he turned, ignoring his scattered clothes, and strode out of the room, leaving Duo sitting perfectly still on the bed, gaze still fixed on the air where the man he loved had just been standing.

His throat was tight, his eyes blurring – to his horror, he realized he was about to cry. _No no, boys don't cry,_ he told himself, raising a heavy hand to wipe the tears away, but then he let the arm drop as they trickled down his face silently. Damn. _Sorry Solo… I can't control it. I know I'm weak, but can't you forgive me just this once? I royally screwed up this time. Just this once, let me be weak._

_Heero, I'm sorry. I'm so very, very sorry. Can I ever make it up to you? Is there any way? Gods, if there's a way… I'll do it. I'll do it._

He blindly felt for the knife strapped to his calf and pulled it out, then pushed his pants down to his knees. The white bandages had become red, and he peeled them off, biting his lip to keep from screaming when he had to tear the cloth off his open wounds. Tears blurred and dripped, the salt like acid on his torn flesh, as he lay the knife against his thigh again and savagely pushed. Deeper, deeper, for this was nothing compared to the magnitude of his sin…

The cuts before were to remind him never to be weak again, never to let others affect him so much. He knew now, though, that he'd been naïve before – what he felt for Heero was too deep to be forgotten. It was a weakness too ingrained in him to be defeated. He accepted it, understood that he would never be able to have Heero, and never be able to leave him. He understood that he wasn't worthy to love Heero, to have his love.

Before, he cut as a reminder. Now, it was punishment.

The knife drove deep, over and over again.

_Father. Solo. I've let you down, let you both down. I keep lying to myself, and I keep being so weak, so very weak. I've been selfish to the point of hurting others for my own sake. I hurt Heero and lied to myself about why I was doing it. So what if I hurt, too? He had the right. I took away his control, knowing that he didn't know what to do, and I can only blame myself for what he did._

He curled up into a tight ball around the knife, staring bleakly at the metal blood-dulled blade. _I can't really do anything to make up for this, can I? I'll just have to stay away from Heero forever, that's all. I'll have to love him and protect him in secret, from afar, so that I won't be tempted and he won't have to suffer seeing me. I'll do whatever he wants; give him whatever he needs, without letting him know it's me. I'll serve him till the day I die, and when I die it'll be for him, because I can't imagine anything else. For him, I'll do anything._

_Anything._

He bound his thighs tightly with strips of bedsheet, knowing and ignoring the fact that the cloth would stick to the wounds and cause untold agony when removed _because I deserve it, deserve the pain _and then, exhausted, fell asleep to the burn of bone-deep wounds and a bleeding ache in his chest.

* * *

The next time Heero saw Duo was three days later, when they met each other in the hallway as the afternoon faded into evening. They both stopped in their tracks, and then Heero's jaw tightened in a way that told Duo he'd come to some sort of hard decision.

"You owe me."

Duo blinked. "What?"

"I… touched myself, but it did not satisfy me. You owe me, Maxwell. I don't know how you did it, but I cannot control my body anymore. Nothing satisfies this, this hunger. I keep seeing your face in my mind. I have come to the conclusion that my body needs yours."

"I –"

"Societal norms dictate of people who have sex that they become couples. This I cannot allow between us. You stand out. You are unnatural. If I am with you I will become unnatural as well. I cannot risk that. I will settle down with Relena if I survive the war, and I will not need you any more. Yet I need you now, as Relena is currently a threat to our security. Do you understand?"

Duo bowed his head. He understood, all too well; he had no right to refuse, to protest, if that was what Heero wanted. "Yes," he said quietly. "I owe you. You can take me whenever you want on one condition – you only do it from the back, and you never ask anything about my body or what you see on it."

"Why would I ask anything? It's not as if it's important to me. I accept your conditions. Do we have an agreement?"

It hurt so much to hear those words, but he deserved it. He knew that. "Yes."

"Good."

Heero slammed Duo against the wall with his trained speed, startling a gasp from the American, and took advantage of that open mouth to plunder it. Duo closed his eyes, willing his knee not to give out. It was hard, and fast, and brutal, and when Heero was done he stepped back and waited for Duo to pull up his pants and turn, and then he nodded at Duo, went into his room, and shut and locked the door firmly behind him. Duo stood there for a second, a silent black figure in the fading amber glow of the setting sun, then slowly slid down onto the floor, where he silently jerked himself off, watching images of Heero behind closed lids.

It was the same the next time.

And the next.

And the next…

* * *

"Quat! How are ya! Long time no see!"

"Duo! Oh, it's wonderful to see you again!"

"So, how are things with you and bang-boy?"

"Shouldn't I be asking that of you and Heero? I can't feel your emotions, Duo. Why are you hiding –"

"Q, my dear, you worry too much! Heero and I have an – agreement. I don't pester him, and he considers letting me be on top the next time! Ooh, you blushing, Quat-kitty?"

"Duo! Still, that doesn't explain –"

"Do you honestly want to keep feeling lust all the time, Quat?"

"…_Oh._"

"Yes, _oh_. So don't worry, wipe that charming blush off your face and tell me all about you and loverboy, hmm?"

"Are you sure –"

"Come on, details, details!"

"Duo!"

"Well?"

"Well… oh, you wouldn't believe how sweet Trowa is. You really wouldn't expect it from him…"

* * *

I hurt for Duo.

**Ashen Skies  
**"_Do we have an agreement?"_


	5. Chapter Five: Aftermath

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write, because they're _obvious_. Thank you.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5xnot decided

**Timeline:** During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating:** R. Supposed to be NC-17, but… scowls

**Warnings:** Self-mutilation, cruel jokes…? Oh, and Relena-bashing. In an indirect way.

**Summary:** Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far **

_Chapter Five_

* * *

_Rough, desperate, brutal, pain fingers briefly invading, pushing, stretching, and then he was being taken, hard and fast and violently, and he didn't care. He'd do anything for Heero, as long as Heero wanted it. He couldn't protest for his life._

_It was always about Heero. It always would be.

* * *

_

The screech of his alarm clock was like the chainsaw to his forest of nightmares, and as he jerked out of bed, thudding painfully to the floor in a medusa's hair nest of sheets, he imagined siccing a chainsaw on the stupid thing. See if it liked it.

Flailing a hand out, he managed to slap the clock into silence. The neighbours had been complaining lately; the walls here were so thin that if he pressed his ear against the cheap whitewashed plaster, he could hear the guy in the apartment to the right muttering to himself.

Not like he could call this place an apartment, anyway. It was more of a cave. A small one, at that. The last place he'd lived in, now, deserved the 'apartment' title; it had been in the upscale part of town, just outside the suburbs, and had cost so much that, when he'd been kicked out, he hadn't the means to get anything good. This place was in one of the worse neighborhoods, and the tiny hole he lived in reflected that, with cracks in the too-thin walls and dripping ceilings, not to mention the state the communal toilet was in. At least the gangs here had learned to leave him alone after the first idiot who'd tried to take him on had ended up castrated.

In his defence, the other guy had started it, and when he'd tried to talk the him out of attacking him, the guy'd taunted him by saying he had no balls. And he'd been in a bad mood (worse than usual, anyway) that day, so his first thought had been _I'll show you 'no balls', asshole!_

It was still dark when he set out, just like it was every morning. He made sure of that. Heero woke at the crack of dawn, or more precisely 5 a.m. everyday. It took an hour on his enhanced motorcycle, painted entirely dull black and re-engineered for silent, optimum performance – he was rather proud of it, to tell the truth – to arrive in the Peacecraft suburbs, the area where Relena's mansion was. He resented the fact that previously, he'd only needed five minutes to arrive.

_Let's see… what date is it today…?_

_Oh._

He took a deep breath to fight the pain that flooded him. _Two years… can't believe it's already been two years since that day. An anniversary of sorts, hmm? No, don't think about that. Focus, Maxwell, focus._

So. Today was a Friday, with nothing special going on, which meant the usual weekday routine – Heero would come out at five ten, take another twenty minutes to run/jog about five miles around the suburbs, return to the mansion and finally at seven thirty come out to escort Relena to her office, a ten-minute brisk walk, which Relena insisted on strolling to work everyday, so that she arrived at eight in her office. It was a security nightmare – people were less susceptible to bullets and knives when _in_ cars rather than _outside_ them – but nothing had happened after months of her walking, unless you counted everyone along the road slowing or plain stopping just to greet her.

Duo rather suspected that was the reason she walked. Probably couldn't get by without her daily dose of adoration and worship.

Sighing, he settled down in his hiding spot to wait and watch. He hadn't lost any of his skill at that, at least, since Heero hadn't noticed him after all this while. Perhaps it was partly because he'd had to struggle to survive, and hadn't really left the mentality of 'danger everywhere' that every soldier had had drilled into him in the war, while Heero was living in the opulence and grandeur of the artisan society.

He sat up straighter when almost silent footsteps came towards him, audible only because the sounds of the day hadn't begun yet. Soon Heero's still very toned figure came into view, not even breaking a sweat yet as he jogged past. Duo's throat tightened, as it had every day for the past two years, at the image Heero presented: he was wearing his green tank top and black shorts – not spandex, but close enough – and that focused expression on his face brought back memories of their time together. However good a suit and tie looked on the Japanese boy when he was on bodyguard duty, it wasn't the same.

Seeing Heero like this still brought the most joy, and the most despair. Two years, and he hadn't been able to calm his emotions any. He was _such_ an idiot, really. There was no hope that Heero would accept him back into his life – he had Relena, after all; Relena who provided him with a job, Relena who provided him with a normal life, Relena who provided him with everything he needed now. Relena who'd told Duo, so calmly and softly and reasonably, that it'd be best for Heero if he never saw Duo again.

_He has nightmares at night, sometimes, that leave him curled up in pain and shuddering and screaming your name with agony in his voice. You did something to him, Duo, and he can't forget it. I hope you'll understand that what he needs most now, I'm the only one who can give it to him. You'll only hurt him more._

He'd known she was right, and all the anger that he'd built up upon learning that she'd ordered the landlord to evict him from his apartment had vanished, leaving him tired and somehow, inexplicably full of grief. He'd whispered _take care of him_ and left, and Heero, as far as he knew, had never known of his existence since.

But Duo couldn't forget Heero, and he'd promised himself to do whatever it took to make Heero happy until his very last breath. So here he was, here he had been, memorizing and analyzing Relena and Heero's schedules so he could provide protection against those people who still harboured hate towards either one of the two, and who were sneaky enough to get past Heero's not-quite-fully-capable trainee guards and Heero's own occupied concentration. He followed them everywhere, starting from early in the morning until they finally retired to wherever they were staying at night, even when they went overseas, though it strained his resources. He was doing software stuff as a side job and that gave him just enough money to keep up his activities, but left him little else.

Protecting her had nettled Duo when he'd first started out – she was the one to deprive him of a house and his Heero, after all. No, not his Heero; never was and never would be. If anything, it was he himself who'd driven Heero off as anything more than – fuck-buddies, perhaps, or maybe not even that. He was foolish to forget, even for a second, and to blame Relena. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was doing her best to help Heero, and for that he owed her everything.

So far he'd shot the guns out of two snipers' hands, disabled a bomb which had happened to be in the very hiding place he'd chosen (though he wasn't sure if this had been aimed at Relena and Heero; bombs had been common in the past year), disarmed a few stalkers with murderous intent in their eyes, and once even risking his cover identity to tackle some thug who'd gotten too close to Relena, who'd been clinging on to and effectively restraining Heero from moving and protecting her. Four times he'd pushed Relena away from under some heavy falling objects that would have killed her if she'd been under them, when her bodyguards had been too far away. Those close shaves happened less nowadays, with the guards now alert to such easy-to-commit threats and not focusing only on ferreting out intricate plots of murder.

It happened less nowadays, with Heero sticking close to Relena's side.

That was good, though. Nowadays he didn't have the strength left to do anything too physical. Hell, even driving his beloved bike didn't give him as much of a high anymore, not when he was in danger of falling off if he went too fast. His mind was as sharp as ever, though, and for that he was grateful – at least he could keep his oath to protect Heero and his happiness, since recently that came in the form of him taking non-physical preventive measures, discovering plots instead of tackling attackers.

Yet even though he wasn't much good physically, he still came in person to watch over his self-named charges, opting to do his research and programming at night. The lost sleep was worth it – he was used to ignoring fatigue and growing hunger and the dizzy spells, and this way he could see Heero in person everyday.

God he was a sucker.

While lost in his thoughts, he hadn't forgotten to keep watch. Hero had passed by twice since the first time and now, Duo knew, he would be returning to the mansion – to get ready for yet another day of protecting Relena. Duo, too, had to move in half an hour's time to the little café near the mansion. He'd been their first customer every day at six a.m. (at least everyday Relena had taken that route) for the past two years. The couple who owned it had become good friends of his, and didn't begrudge him the one and a half hours he spent there – especially since he helped out with serving from time to time.

It was seven forty when it happened. Duo was chatting with one of the other regular customers, a nice old lady, having been banned from service when Boss-lady had noticed the slight trembling of his hands. A relatively new regular of two weeks, a quiet guy who had made it clear that he preferred to be left alone in his solitary corner, had been slightly more fidgety than usual, and Duo had kept an eye on him since he'd come in, but had been distracted by the amusing exploits of Mrs. Henderson's son.

It was the stupidest thing he'd done for a long time.

Roughly a half-minute before Relena and her entourage passed by the café – Heero'd stopped having them walk on an unpredictable schedule when Relena had complained and there'd been not much trouble lately – the newcomer stood and approached Duo with his coffee. Wondering if he was coming to complain about the quality of the beverage, which was puzzling because Boss-lady brewed the best coffee he'd ever tasted, Duo turned to him with a smile. "Can I help you?"

In answer, the newcomer threw the hot liquid in his face.

Even as Duo cursed, stumbling back blinded, he spared a moment to be grateful that the coffee wasn't scalding, having cooled down some. Movement to his right – duck, feint; he took a moment to _damn_ his reflexes, slowed by his condition. He found himself locked in a deadly parody of an embrace, a blade each to his neck and stomach. Any way he moved, anything he tried, the proximity of the blades and the positions they were in ensured that he'd be cut, a fatal wound if he was lucky, dead on the spot if he wasn't.

His hearing were working fine, even though he was still trying to blink the stinging beverage out of his eyes, and he heard his captor screaming right next to his ear. He was ordering the customers to _get out_. No one moved – and then, before Duo knew what was happening, the blade was savagely drawn across his stomach. It _hurt_, but Duo took this chance to try to twist away – but he wasn't strong enough, dammit, and he was hauled back into captive position again.

This time, the customers obeyed. Duo's eyesight was returning, due to the tears from the sudden pain washing the coffee out, and he saw vaguely the people in the café running outside in a stampede, screaming. And outside – black suits.

_Shit._

He was thrown to the ground, a savage kick to the wound leaving his head spinning, as his attacker ran out – to where Relena's bodyguards were being overwhelmed by the terrified customers who were swarming them, clamouring for help. It was a sneaky and rather ingenious plan, and if he weren't so wracked with pain and guilt he'd have appreciated it more.

It took a few seconds for him to even attempt to move from his fetal position on the ground, and he painfully removed his bomber jacket, tearing out strips from his shirt with his boot knife to hastily bind his wound. Nothing fatal, but the blood loss would make him dizzy and even weaker soon. As he sat up, his eyes locked onto the scene at the door – Heero was fighting the attacker, who had Relena in his grip, and was obviously trying to kill her just as Heero was obviously trying to stop him, and getting hurt in the process.

_Heero was getting hurt_.

And Relena, who made Heero happy, was also in danger.

It was all his fault. Even if it weren't his fault, he'd sworn to protect them, and he was failing.

Painfully he clambered to his feet, and drew out his gun. His hands were trembling much more obviously than before, but he forced himself to focus, and felt the familiar void beginning to claim him. He could ignore the pain now, and his hands steadied; he took aim at the screaming, twisting mess at the door.

Wait for it… wait for it… _now_.

The attacker's knife wasn't in a position to cut anyone if he jerked. Duo shot. The attacker jerked, stumbling back, clutching his stomach. Duo had calculated the distance in relation to the force of the gun; the bullet would be lodged in his body and not pass through, reducing the number of casulaties. Now that he was away from Heero and Relena, Duo took his time, calmly aimed again. Shot again.

The man slumped to the ground. A bullet through his brain. Dead.

Duo let his consciousness surface then, and staggered as the loss of blood hit him hard. His vision greyed for a moment, and he swayed on his feet. No. He forced himself to get a grip, and blinked hard. When he was able to stand firmly again, he saw Relena unconscious on the floor – probably fainted out of shock, he noted faintly.

Then he looked up, and into a pair of deep cobalt eyes.

They'd haunted his dreams every night for more than two years, and now that they were staring into his, shocked and disbelieving, Duo was again reminded of why. Why he'd fallen so hard, why he couldn't let go, why he loved those eyes and their owner. Why he was starving himself, and working out endlessly, and ignoring his condition in favour of using his strained resources to protect this man. This man, and the one he'd chosen to love.

"_Heero_."

The name slipped out unconsciously on his tongue, and he could have bitten it off – his tongue, not the name, never the name, Heero's name was precious, to be treasured, not to be taken lightly. He watched as if in a trance as those eyes filled with a horrified realization.

"Duo?" Heero took a step forward. "Duo. Is that – really you?"

_No. No. Oh, please don't speak… don't remind me of how lovely your voice can be. Don't let me want what I can't have anymore._

"Duo?"

He was taking a step forward, and another. _Please don't move. Don't come closer. Don't. I can't control myself around you. No, don't, please stop, stay away – no!_

Whoa. Déjà vu.

Then what he'd done came crashing into his fragmented consciousness – he seemed to be losing pieces of it a lot these days – and Duo's numbed fingers dropped the gun. He'd just shot Heero in the thigh, twice, like he'd done when they first met. It brought back memories. Oh, but how bittersweet they were…

They stared at each other for an eternity. Then Duo caught movement from the corner of his eye; the other bodyguards were fighting their way in through the still-panicked mob, much larger now with those who had been outside passing by. Coming to his senses, Duo snatched up his gun from the ground, tucked it back into its holster in one fluid motion, and ran.

He heard Heero cry his name, and his eyesight blurred, but he didn't look back.

Back door. Open, close, lock, block the handle. His bike was resting there in the back lot – twist the key, engine on, kick off, hearing pounding on the door behind him. He knew the back lanes like they were part of him, and in a few minutes he was able to slow down slightly, knowing there was no way the others could catch up to him now.

He let himself think, then. It was stupid to let his desires rule his common sense – he so badly wanted to see Heero in person everyday, that he went despite his inability to protect himself. Because of his selfishness the attacker had gotten so far, to Relena herself, before he'd been able to put a stop to it – and even then he'd blown his cover. He couldn't go back there anymore. He'd do what he should have done from the start, and that was to stay away and do his duty from afar.

Duo was absolutely disgusted with himself. He was pathetically weak, and that was a hindrance to Heero's work. Worse, he'd become a threat. He'd even _shot_ Heero! It was unforgivable.

He vowed to do better, until the day he died.

Which would be too soon, actually, if he continued acting so stupidly.

* * *

Heero ignored the concerned questions of his trainees as they crowded around him, some exclaiming over the wounds in his thigh, some trying to get him to tell them what had happened. He ignored Relena, and the few bodyguards that had gone over to her. He ignored the gossiping chatter of the people who'd swarmed back in once they saw the danger was over. His eyes saw nothing, refused to stay on anything but the entrance where Duo had escaped through.

The trainees who'd chased after Duo came back in, looking distressed. Heero pinned them with a hard stare when he saw they were unaccompanied, empty-handed.

"_Too fast – knew all the back streets of this place – damn good on a bike – sharp corners – I'm sorry._

"_We lost him."_

He'd always admired Duo for his ability to outsneak anyone… the master of stealth wasn't named for nothing. He couldn't blame his trainees for losing him. – they were good, but hadn't really got any first-hand experience.

And besides, they were chasing a man who had outrun death more times than anyone could count.

"Heero."

A hand thrust a jacket in front of his face, and he blinked at it before reaching out with trembling hands to take it. It was still warm, and the leather soft in his hands. Heavy, but comfortably so. Closing his eyes, he buried his face in the butter-wool inside of the jacket.

It smelt of Duo.

Reality hit him hard, then, finally sinking into his numbed mind. His grip on the leather tightened, and he stayed that way, face in the jacket, hunched over on the ground, oblivious to the hands that were picking the bullets out and bandaging his thigh. It hurt, but not as much as the pain that was spreading through his stomach, coming from his heart.

It smelt of Duo, and it was warm.

"Heero." A hand on his back, a familiar voice. Gabriel, his right-hand man, his brother in all but blood. Trowa had recommended the ex-mercenary to him when he'd been looking for a security team, and he hadn't disappointed once. Gabriel, who'd known him well enough to find and give him the jacket. "Was that…?"

Duo had worn this jacket. Had stood there, had locked eyes with him.

"Yes."

_Alive._

"That was Duo."

Not dead like he'd believed.

"Duo? But I thought the note said…!"

…Wait.

His head snapped up, eyes full of fury, causing his trainees to blanch away. That hate-filled gaze was turned on Relena, who was slowly awakening.

Not like he was _led_ to believe.

Gabriel watched worriedly as Heero stood, injured leg and all, and turned to the shopkeeper. The lady stood her ground as he asked, very calmly, "Is Duo a regular customer here?"

She gave him a suspicious look, but answered. "Yes. Why?"

He ignored the question. "What time does he come and leave?"

"When the shop opens at six, he comes in and helps out sometimes, though lately he's been weaker and we don't let him. Then he leaves past seven."

"Exactly _when_ past seven?"

"Let me think… it's after…" Realization made her pause.

"Please finish that sentence."

She narrowed her eyes. "Will he get into trouble for this?"

"No. Never. You have my word."

"…After your group passes by, then."

"Thank you." Then, just as calmly, he turned in Relena's direction. He didn't yell, or run over, or anything of the sort, just stood there and waited, infinitely patient, as Relena groaned, opened her eyes, sat up.

From experience, they knew this cold, sharp anger meant Heero at his deadliest. He practically radiated murder.

"_Relena_."

The young politician blinked up at him and cringed. "Hee – Heero," she managed.

"_If that bastard Yuy ever wants to apologize – tell him to go to hell. Chang, the same. If Quatre and Trowa ask after me, tell them I'm sorry, but I want to be left alone. Don't ever tell them I'm dead. It's just – I can't live like this, I feel dirty and used and paranoid all the time. So… I guess this is goodbye then. Ironic that you're the one I'm telling this to, since I don't even like you all that much._" Heero's stare at this point could freeze fire and melt ice at the same time. "Sound _familiar_ to you?"

"Heero – I don't understand –"

"You told me Duo wrote that. You told me he gave it to you. _You told me he was dead_."

Relena was getting paler by the second. "Why – what's this about, Heero? Heero, I don't understand what –"

"You warned me not to tell the others, to respect Duo's wishes to be left alone. You convinced me that if I searched for him he'd hate me even more than he did already. So why do I find out he's _alive_ and that he's been _protecting_ the two of us for so long!"

"What? He's been – he's protecting – I don't know. Maybe he changed his mind –"

_Thud._

Amidst the alarmed cries of the bodyguards and the gasps of Relena trying to get her breath back, Heero said coldly, "If anything happens to Duo – _anything_ –"

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. His eyes said it all, and Relena saw her dreams going up in flames in that stare.

Then he turned and stalked away, bomber jacket tightly clenched in a fist, the crowd hastily and reverently parting for him. Gabriel hesitated, looking back and forth between Relena and Heero, and then shrugged. It wasn't much of a choice, really. He could always find another job.

Just to make it official, though, he went over and poked Relena. "We're quitting!" he told her quite cheerfully, slapped her for good measure, and then took off after Heero. He'd never really liked the woman anyway, but she paid well, and he'd found a real brother in Heero, like he had in Trowa and Quatre and Wufei. It had always been one of his dreams, since he'd met the four of them, to meet the last member of their group, the one they spoke of all the time with wistful remembrance.

Now it seemed like he'd have the chance.

His leader was two blocks away, in the mouth of an alley, leaning against the wall. He'd have missed him if Heero hadn't called him, seeing him run past. Gabriel skidded to a stop and went back, he hesitating by Heero's side, not sure what to say.

"I need to find him," Heero said abruptly. "Just now… that wasn't hate in his eyes, Gabriel. That was, that was longing, and pain, and self-hate, and _love_. He loves me still, Gabriel. After what I've done to him… he loves me still. Can you believe that?"

He heard the break in Heero's voice, and the hint of forcefully restrained tears. "Yes," he said simply. "From what you all have described to me… yes."

Heero drew in a ragged breath. "I thought he hated me – I thought he didn't even _want_ my apology, he hated me so much. This changes _everything_, Gabriel. I need to find him… find him, and love him for the rest of his life. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to him. Even if he hates me, even if he doesn't forgive me, I'll find a way to make sure he's happy. I love him, Gabriel. I need him." He sighed, and then pushed off the wall. "Tell the others I'm sorry, but –"

"Hey, you're making me go back there when I've just told them we both quit and slapped Ms Peacecraft in the face?"

Heero blinked. He might have even gaped a little.

"Yes, fearless leader, I'm in this with you," Gabriel said firmly. "We're brothers – you surely didn't expect me to let you wander off by yourself, did you? I was there at the moment Quatre hit you and you realized how much you've wronged Mr Maxwell. No way I'm going to miss out seeing you reunite with him. Especially since there's a high chance you're going to grovel."

There was a tense moment where Gabriel was sure Heero was going to order him back, but then the Japanese man smiled a tiny smile. "Duo would like you."

He grinned back. "Let's find him to confirm that, then."

* * *

Rest assured, what happened on Heero's side in between the previous chapter and this one will be covered. It's just that it would be tedious if I were to write it all out, so I'm using this time-lapse method… you'll find out what happened in the missing plot as the current plot unfolds.

**Ashen Skies  
**_"It smelt of Duo, and it was warm."_


	6. Chapter Six: Hope

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write, because they're _obvious_. Thank you.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5xnot decided

**Timeline:** During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating:** R. Supposed to be NC-17, but… scowls

**Warnings:** Self-mutilation, cruel jokes…? Oh, and Relena-bashing. In an indirect way.

**Summary:** Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far **

_Chapter Six_

* * *

Déjà vu plagued him that next month. One year ago he'd searched in exactly the same places, the same way, equally frantic, the dread and despair rising with each dead-end clue. Every move he made was eerily familiar, but he repeated them again nevertheless, for this was the kind of search that you looked _everywhere_ – in already-searched places, in unlikely places, in impossible places. You searched because you had to, because you couldn't _not_ search, because if there was even the smallest chance, you took it _just in case_.

He remembered that moment one year and one month ago with exceptional clarity: the moment when what he'd done, the full enormity of it, burned through his mind and his blood and fired the air in his lungs. He had hurt, but all he could think of was how much Duo must have hurt, how much _he_ had hurt Duo…

"_Are you alright, Heero? I'm so sorry." Her voice was so gentle, so concerned, so entirely empty of any real sincerity, and in that moment Heero hated her with every breath he took, every heartbeat. He knew logically that it wasn't her fault – she'd only suggested the joke, long ago, and he'd been the one to take it so much further – and that he was just being stupid, but… he knew, then, that there would never be the chance of anything between them, despite how much Relena had done for him, how long she hoped for it. He would protect her because it was necessary, like he had been, yes, but the friendship of the past was gone._

_Outwardly he let nothing show, however. "Yes, Relena. I'm fine. You are not going out in the afternoon?"_

"_No, I'm not – why?" She shifted closer, leaned into his side, lowered his voice a little. "Do you need some comfort –"_

"_This is not an appropriate time, Relena," he interrupted. "A friend of mine just committed suicide. Please show some consideration."_

_She rallied magnificently. "I don't understand what you mean, Heero. I was just offering some quiet company in your time of grief –"_

_Inwardly he thought, _bitch_, shocking even himself. Out loud, though, he said, "Then it is my mistake. I apologise." He rose suddenly, almost causing her to lose her balance, and said woodenly, "Please let no one disturb me for the rest of the day."_

"_But – but – how about, um, dinner –"_

"_I do not want dinner."_

_He left her staring after him, and strode through the mansion. The opulence bothered him normally, but he'd never felt the urge to burn the drapes, shred the portraits and landscapes in their gold framework, knock down walls. There seemed to be a great distance between him and the world, as if he was looking at each object through the wrong end of a telescope, and white noise filled his head. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't see –_

_He stopped. In the middle of the hallway, his room only two doors down, he stopped, and his fingers jerked involuntarily to his face. It was wet. Tears? He was crying? But – he never cried. To cry without even realising it –_

_His body felt weak, tired, heavy. He staggered the last few steps to his door, fumbled with the doorknob, managed to get inside, and slammed the door behind him. Then he let himself fall into a heap on the floor, and cry like he'd never, ever cried before. He cried so hard it felt like dying._

_Duo – gone. It was unimaginable. The last person, if anyone had asked him, the last person he'd have thought would kill himself would be Duo._

_And the worst part was that _he_ had been the cause. He'd been the one to push Duo over the edge, the one to force Duo to take that last step, the one responsible. The one to use Duo like a whore. His fault._

_But an insidious thought snaked its way up to his mind, and whispered: No, no, no… the worst part, the very worst part, is that you knew he loved you. You knew he did it all because he loved you. You knew he'd do anything for you without an explanation on your part, and so you never explained, never told him of your growing feelings, never told him you might just love him back, because you were too scared…_

_The worst thing, Heero, the very worst, is that you could have stopped this all from happening, if only you'd spoken up. You could have stopped it. You could have stopped him._

_To have been able to save him, and yet pull back…_

_Murderer._

_Murderer._

He remembered that day, and the days that followed, empty, until one month ago. Somehow, though, knowing that Duo had been alive, but that he'd given him up for dead – somehow that was worse than thinking that he'd killed him. He imagined Duo living for the past two years thinking that he didn't care, watching over him without asking for anything back, and a convulsive shudder ran through him. It was a horrifying thought.

Oh, he had so much so make up for…

"Hey, fearless leader. Got a lead – it's a really long shot, but it sounds promising."

He turned around so fast that he almost knocked the laptop off the table. Righting it, he turned his full attention to Gabriel, hovering in the doorway. "Right now I'll take anything," he reminded his friend. "Just a hint – anything! – to his whereabouts at any point in time and I can work from there."

"Well – I was chatting with Mike –"

Heero glared. "You were chatting with your boyfriend?"

"Just for a minute," Gabriel said defensively. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

"Fine."

"Fine! Um, okay, so, he was standing in for a friend in this neighbourhood clinic a while ago when some poor sod came in, well… bleeding in a very sensitive place, yeah?"

Heero looked blank.

"Oh man, you're hopeless. How do I say it? Uh, I mean, he could sing soprano from now on, yeah?"

"Oh."

"_Yes_. So. He comes in crying and screaming, with his gang-mates, and had to have _it_ cut off later because of an infection but I'm getting ahead of myself. So he's screaming, and talking to himself, and saying something about a demon… with glowing purple eyes."

Heero's breath stopped.

"Injured gangsters are common in that area, Mike tended to a lot of them while he was there, so he doesn't really remember each case, but he says he remembered this one because of, well, _the_ injury, but also because he said it was one of the easiest treatments he'd ever done. Apart from _it_, of course, every other injury – broken bones, heavy bruising – was easy to set, or didn't leave permanent damage, or internal injuries or anything. He says it was a thorough beating, but one by a pro."

Heero finally found his voice. "Where?" he croaked. "Where – which area? Which state, even?"

Gabriel grinned. "I can do better. See, after that, the attacker became famous, yeah? No one ever found out his name, but he was given a wide berth, and everyone stayed clear… _of his apartment._"

"You – his _address_?" Heero breathed.

A smug grin. "Yep."

Heero sagged back in his chair. Finally – after all this time, all these failures, all this waiting – finally… He closed his eyes and prayed. He'd had one miracle given to him one month ago, and it was almost too much to hope for another one… but he couldn't stop himself for hoping anyway.

_If this works, I'll take up religion, no questions asked._

Then he stood in one fluid motion, and strode out of the room, whirlwind-ing his way around his new apartment, Gabriel hurrying after him.

"Where?"

Gabriel told him.

* * *

It was a depressing building, in a depressing area full of depressed people; the door in front of him was a depressing grey, with depressing peeling paint, just like the walls.

Needless to say, Heero wasn't in a very optimistic mood as he stood before the door to Duo's apartment, Gabriel fidgeting behind him with Mike in tow – the young blond doctor had met them at the apartment block. Heero had argued – his life and his mistakes weren't a spectator sport – but he hadn't argued too hard, because he remembered how Duo had looked in the café, and it wasn't good. He hoped Mike wouldn't be needed.

The landlord had been spectacularly unhelpful, at least right up to the moment when Heero had lost his patience and went all quiet and murderous on him. Then he'd told them that he hadn't ever had a good look at the man currently renting the apartment, since he always wore a hood and shades, but that yes, this was the man who everybody was very careful to stay away from. He'd been here slightly longer than a year, maybe a year and two months?

Right to this moment, outside the door that might or might not have Duo behind it, Heero still didn't know whether to hope that he'd really found Duo or not. If he found Duo, he'd be overjoyed, but if he found Duo _here_… he hated to think of Duo living here, like this, in this dark place that was not suited to him at all. That first year without Duo, he'd imagined where Duo would be living, and imagined Duo living with _him_…

"_Here's your room, Heero. If you don't like any part of it, I'll have one of the servants change it at once, you only have to say the word –"_

"_It's fine."_

"_You haven't even looked at it yet."_

_He shrugged. "I don't mind anything. I'm sure it'll be fine."_

_Relena pursed her lips, but didn't say anything else as Heero opened the door and stepped into his new room. It was larger than what an employer would normally give her bodyguard, but he knew if he mentioned it Relena would just find some way to skirt around the issue, so he remained quiet._

_It was decorated in the classic scheme of white and mahogany brown; all the furniture had the glossy, deep shine of antiques. He'd expected no less of the Peacecraft home, of course, but somehow it seemed strangely… cold. It was odd. Logic and observation told him that others found this kind of colour scheme 'warm', but he couldn't see why. He didn't hate it, or even dislike it, but neither did he _like_ it, either. It was just a room._

_Duo wouldn't like it, though._

_He remembered the way any room that Duo lived in became – just like that – _his_. His room, full of his personality; he didn't know how the other boy did it but he did. Just like how everything else he did bore his mark. Somehow, somehow…_

_He realised with a start that the reason why this room before him seemed so cold was because it was a stranger's room. He… had gotten used to having Duo in the room with him? What exactly did he feel towards Duo? He didn't know, but he would find out. The war was over, after all. He had time._

_Duo would come back to him soon, and they'd have all the time they needed._

_Relena was speaking, and he caught her last few words: "…nothing else you need, I'll leave you –"_

"_Wait."_

_She blinked, startled. "Sorry?"_

_Mentally he berated himself for suddenly interrupting her, without even knowing what he wanted to say. It had been on the spur of the moment that he'd spoken, which was something extremely unusual for him. It was no wonder Relena was looking at him oddly. He hesitated, turning to scan the room one more time, and then knew what was missing._

_Just like that._

_He told her what he wanted, and though her look of confusion deepened, she was too polite to ask him his reasons outright, and he didn't volunteer them. As she left, he quietly shut the door behind him and surveyed the room again._

_Maybe, this time, they could make the room… theirs. Together._

_He didn't know why, or how, but he thought perhaps he wanted to try, anyway._

In all that time, he'd never imagined that Duo wouldn't come back. It was unthinkable – throughout the war, no matter what happened between them, no matter what he wanted or where they were, Duo had given him everything he wanted, without asking for anything much back. Duo had always found him, wherever he was. He had waited confidently for a year, after they had separated after the war, and in that year he'd watched people and observed life and thought a lot about things.

He knew now why he wanted, not only a room that he shared with Duo, but a house to themselves. He knew a lot of things that he hadn't known then, including the depth of loyalty and – he was almost sure of it – love, that Duo had for him.

He'd come a long way from that selfish boy who didn't know anything of the world, and of love; who was proud and refused to be humbled by anything, especially what he couldn't control. Who'd been so off-balance and unsure at the sheer disgust he'd felt with himself, that horrifying night, that he'd managed to convince himself the disgust was all for the boy lying broken in the bed.

That Heero of the past had done Duo a terrible wrong. He knew that now, too. As the year had dragged on, he'd gone through various stages of self-disgust and shame and guilt, and ended up with a vow to himself – a vow that he'd do everything it took to get Duo to forgive him, and understand that he loved him back, too.

Then the letter had come.

He shook his head, chasing away the memories, and reminded himself of his vow again. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his slacks. He'd never been this nervous before, and he didn't like the feeling.

Raising his hand, acutely aware of the two hopeful, worried gazes on his back, he knocked.

* * *

I'm not dead!

I feel like it, but I'm not. For those who were wondering, or wishing for my death because of the eternity you have to wait for updates: I'm not dead. Sorry.

It's just that I have a lot of stuff to do this year, including some major major exams. But, while I know excuses are just that – excuses – I hope you can forgive me.

Again.

Just to acknowledge some people who were quite important to my return to writing: those who were anxious enough to FFPM me, like EvilAngelBB, Modified Tam, tyleet88, and wind dancer 1981, either wishing me a good Christmas or new year or imploring me to write – you have no idea how guilty that made me, having all these well-wishes and not deserving them, though after a while the constant pressure from some started to get to me and I began to lose my inspiration all over again, but that's another story – and all those others who reviewed recently, you know who you are, thank you. Even after not updating for so long I still get reviews, which again makes me feel bad and also inspires me. And especially hells-angel, who sent me an Xmas card. Thank you!

And since everyone was asking for a Joke update, above all… here it is.

Hope you liked.

Moohahaha cliffhanger. Is Duo inside? Is he not? Is he inside, but unable to answer? Is he inside, but refusing to answer? Is he inside but jumped out of his window to escape? Is he inside, but has become a green bean sprout?

Find out next chapter! Who knows, he may be a tomato.

**Ashen Skies  
**_"The war was over, after all. He had time."_


	7. Chapter Seven: Distances

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write, because they're _obvious_. Thank you.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5x[undecided

**Timeline:** During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating:** R. Supposed to be NC-17, but… [scowls

**Warnings:** Self-mutilation, cruel jokes…? Oh, and Relena-bashing. In an indirect way.

**Summary:** Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far**

_Chapter Seven_

_

* * *

_

_He'd spent the night in Duo's bed. That was the first thing Heero thought when he woke up with the dawn. He'd sought Duo out last night, the moment he'd come back from a successful mission that had kept him away for the past month, and since he'd been away so long they'd gone more rounds than normal and after everything he'd been so exhausted he'd fallen asleep without knowing it, apparently._

_Someone – Duo, that someone must have been Duo – had cleaned him up, tucked him in. What was he, a child? Something in him raised a tentative hand and ventured cautiously that it felt rather nice, to have been looked after even if it had been while he was unconscious, but as usual Heero pushed it back. He didn't do 'nice'. The war was far from its end, he'd deal with everything else then. He couldn't afford to tend to such ridiculous things like emotional needs right now._

_Right now, all that this was, was a deal with Duo. If the other pilot thought that the deal included taking care of him, then it was his choice. His choice._

_He slid out of bed and went to his room. Took a quick shower and changed into shorts and a tank top, and then went to the kitchen, where he'd heard noises from and knew Duo was. Sure enough, the other pilot grinned at him when he entered, from where he stood over the frying pan. "Hey Heero – take a seat, omelette's almost done."_

_He sat without comment and snagged the newspaper from the tabletop. "You subscribe?" he asked curtly._

"_Nah. It's a waste when I can check stuff on the net. Just thought you might want to look at it while you ate, I know you have a penchant for paper. Hell, you're so anal about your reports I'm surprised you don't hug them to sleep." Something flinched through Duo's eyes at his own words, but he turned to quickly back to the pan before Heero could catch more than a glimpse._

_Whatever it was, if it was important, Duo would let him know. Other than that he had no reason to pry. It was always business between them._

_Why that made him uneasy, Heero carefully didn't think about._

_The omelette was set before him, and reading the paper, Heero cut a piece and took a bite without looking. It took a second for him to frown and stare down at his plate. "What is this?"_

_Duo gave him a weird look. "An omelette?"_

_Heero just glared._

"_Tomatoes, mushroom, lima beans, diced bean sprouts to give it that crunchy bite!" Duo announced with a flourish of his spatula. When his only reply was Heero's stony glare, he sighed. "Okay, okay. Truth is, the veggies are going bad, so I thought I might as well try to mask any unusual tastes with the egg and use them as soon as possible. Waste not, after all."_

"_It tastes... interesting."_

"_But not bad?" Duo's voice was hopeful, though he tried to hide it._

"_I think... no. Not bad."_

_Duo beamed._

_It became a ritual, after that. For every night they spent together, Duo would get up early, buy him the newspaper of whatever town they were in, and make him breakfast. He tried unusual recipes and experimented with random ingredients, and more often than not his ingenuity churned out passable, and surprisingly often pretty good, dishes._

_To his surprise, Heero began to feel... comfortable. And that made him feel uncomfortable whenever he thought about it, so he _didn't_ think about it. Just accepted it as another one of Duo's penances. The rough sex of those early days had given way to a more detached, rather than angry, physical relationship between them, as Heero got used to it and the confused emotions subsided. They did it, and then they didn't speak of it. It was as if those times never existed, and Duo never said anything, just smiled and was normal. But he continued peacefully submitting to Heero's needs._

_Sometimes, though, Heero was beginning to wonder if Duo hadn't already paid for it many times over already._

_No. No, it was up to Duo. If the other boy didn't think he'd done enough, then who was Heero to decide? And the sex was indeed pleasurable. He wasn't stupid enough to give up something that put him at such ease, so he didn't say anything to Duo. Let the other boy decide for himself._

_After all, Duo could stop this any time he wanted to._

And up to the day that the letter had arrived and he'd thought Duo dead, Heero had been content to sit back and wait. To hide from himself, from his own guilt and doubts and that insidious need. To let Duo make all the moves, except the sexual ones. To fumble his way along at his own pace, in no hurry to face the past.

"Heero?"

Heero jumped, startled, and gave an apologetic smile. "Memories," was all he volunteered.

"Oh. Okay." Gabriel leaned against the wall, next to the door they'd picked open when there'd been no response from inside the apartment. "I suppose this would hold lots of memories for you, huh?"

Heero looked at the dingy apartment, similar to their more seedy safehouses in the war. It had been the place itself, and the assorted mess of food on the table, that had brought that particular memory back, tinted with the despair he now felt. He'd been so _stupid_, back then. His training had been so that he could compartmentalize his mind, lock away whatever he didn't need, and he'd used that training extensively in his denial of what he'd started to feel, all that time ago.

Back to reality, though. Memory lane wasn't leading him to where he needed to go – and that was to where Duo was, right now, wherever the hell that was.

He walked another round through the one-room apartment, just looking. The state of the place pained him, the thin weak walls, the dripping ceiling – Duo had been living here, in this hole, while he'd been living in an opulent mansion. He vowed silently to make this all up to Duo, too – yet another item on an already too-long list.

The small sitting room was bland and dull, but the bedroom – there were touches that screamed Duo's name. His favourite books on a clearly self-made shelf that still looked professionally sanded and nailed, and painted a deep blue. A little painting propped against the headboard, a watercolour of an abandoned playground. The headboard itself was a riot of colour, a vibrant abstract pattern, matching the assorted colours of the small knick-knacks scattered around the room, like the odd collection of yo-yos, or the fat stuffed toy pigeon. Heero found a bittersweet smile on his lips as he drank in the sight, so long awaited-for.

They were so _close_.

"The landlord said that he was usually out before dawn and got back after midnight," Heero said, thinking out loud. "Recently he's been coming back earlier. So we have, what, two, three more hours before he returns, allowing for an hour's error."

"Ambush?" Gabriel suggested.

Heero nodded slowly. "Yes… but he'll fight, and you two won't be able to handle him, especially Mike."

"He won't have fully recovered," the young doctor pointed out, taking the comment with grace, knowing that he was far from either of the other two's leagues, especially Heero's. "There was a stomach wound, wasn't there?"

"The blood loss was pretty bad," Gabriel agreed, "but he'll have recovered already, look at Heero – two bullet wounds and one month later he's up and running. Thing is, from the tests we did, he's very weak – a deficiency in iron and other assorted metals, in almost every vitamin you can name –"

"Even if he's not at full strength, he'll still win either of you in a fight," Heero said absently, thinking hard. He needed a plan that would place Mike in the least amount of danger; Gabriel could handle himself to an extent. There was also the problem of hidden caches of arms, or an escape route.

If he was in Duo's place, where would he hide weapons? Where would the escape routes be? The small apartment surely couldn't hide many things, but he'd relied on Duo's ingenuity with limited resources in the war, and he wouldn't underestimate that ingenuity now.

Heero smoothed a hand down the sleeve of his jacket – Duo's jacket. He'd taken to wearing it, because it had smelled so strongly of Duo; this past month the scent had mostly faded, but it still lingered, and the thought that Duo had worn it was enough.

"Alright. This is what we'll do…"

* * *

Trudging up the staircase, Duo grumbled darkly to himself. It was as if Heero had dropped off the face of the earth, one month ago. Damn the bastard and his hiding skills! His stomach growled, as if in agreement, but the hunger pang that went through it was clearly upset with _him_.

He couldn't help it, though. Protecting Relena and Heero had strained his resources, but now _finding_ Heero was almost killing him. At least before, he'd known where Heero actually _was_, when he was with Relena. She wasn't exactly an easy person to miss.

Relena – now, _that_ bit of the past month confused him greatly. He _couldn't_ believe the rumours about Heero slapping her, or something along those lines – but some battered, hurting part of him had started to hope. He thought he'd managed to beat that part of him into submission, but here it was again, whispering insidious thoughts in his head.

_It's true that Heero's not by her side anymore. It's true that she's much more quiet and subdued nowadays. What other explanation is there? What if Heero really left her?_

_What if Heero really left her… for me?_

Yet there was the way Heero had given up searching for Duo to stay by Relena's side. There was the way Heero had treated him like nothing but an object during the war. He remembered the words Heero had said to him, remembered those times with perfect clarity, and they had left no room for interpretation except for one – that Heero didn't care about him, or hated him.

But still… an image of Heero's face, Heero's eyes, in that café a month ago resurfaced in his mind, and he didn't know what to think anymore.

He sighed heavily, coming to a halt before his apartment door and fishing out his key, but just as he was about to insert it into the lock he paused. His senses were screaming at him, and Duo trusted his senses beyond anything else. Quietly, he moved to the side so that he was pressed against the wall and crouched down, making himself less of a target if someone decided to shoot through the door.

Peering at the lock, he cursed mentally. Whoever had picked the lock was a professional; there was hardly any trace of the act left, except for one tiny scratch where nothing had been when he'd left this morning. Thinking fast, Duo ran through the people he'd pissed off recently – small fry, small fry, possibly a threat but he'd probably scared them enough so that was a no, small fry… oh, there were those two gang members, maybe their gang had grown in power and number and so they wanted revenge…? He was certainly well known enough in the area for them to find him easily.

Opening the door would tell him more. Silently sliding his gun out, holding it securely, Duo reached up and inserted, then turned the key in the lock. He pushed the door open quickly, still crouched to the side.

Nothing happened.

Okay, so either the gang had come and vandalised his apartment and then left, or whoever was inside was more professional. Gang members like that would start shooting the moment the door opened. Since he hadn't done anything that would warrant someone of a higher skill level coming after him… wait, maybe someone hadn't appreciated his playing hero-in-the-shadows to Relena? No, he'd covered his tracks well.

_Maybe it's Heero, searching for you like you're searching for him_.

Duo shook his head hard, pushing that thought aside. It was too ludicrous for consideration. Unless… unless Heero had grown tired of Relena and wanted Duo back in the way they'd been together during wartime?

Nah. No way.

And even if it _was_… he wasn't sure he could survive it when Heero found someone else again. Even if it meant being in Heero's arms for a short, wondrous time. And yes, it was _when_, not _if_. He knew better than to think Heero could want him forever. And yet… and yet… if Heero appeared right that moment and asked for him back, he didn't think that he could refuse for long.

That was a thought for another day, though. Duo took out a pocket mirror and inched it around the doorway, tilting it at different angles. The apartment didn't _look_ vandalised, but it also looked empty, and _that_ didn't make sense.

"Um…"

Duo's head whipped around, his fingers tightening around the gun. He forced himself to relax a little, though, when he only saw a young man behind him, staring. There was a moment of awkward silence. "Sorry," the young man said at last, "but you're kind of… blocking the hallway. There isn't much of it."

That was true; it was so narrow that if Duo remained where he was, the other guy would have to either leapfrog over him or inch sideways pressed against the wall, like a crab. Either way would present him as a target if there _was_ anyone waiting inside, and that wouldn't do. Sighing, Duo stood, and the other man's light blue eyes were drawn to the gun in his hand. His jaw hung slightly as he looked from the gun, up to Duo's face, and then to the apartment.

"Um…"

Duo realised what it must look like. He gave the guy his best friendly harmless smile. "Sorry, I can get a bit paranoid at times," he said, feigning sheepishness. "You new here?"

"Visiting a friend." The guy gave Duo a friendly nod, apparently accepting his half-assed explanation. "I'm Mike," he added, holding out his right hand.

Duo had to transfer his gun to his left hand, cursing all the way mentally, but his outward cheer never wavered. "I'm –" he was all he managed to get out, his hand reaching halfway across the distance between them – before the other man snatched the gun from his hand in a quick movement and shoved him into the apartment.

His brain was going _what the hell?_ even as his body was reacting, reaching for his second gun, losing precious moments since it was less-used and so hidden in an more awkward position – his lower back, as opposed to the front holster. He was an instant too slow. The second gun was knocked from his hand as he was tackled to the ground, the attacker trying to pin his legs down and grab his wrists.

This second guy was good, using his superior mass to his advantage, but he was still not good enough. With a twist that made his bones grind, ignoring the pain, Duo freed a hand and shoved the heel of his palm into the underside of the man's jaw, causing his head to snap back and his grip to loosen for a fraction of a second. Even that tiny pause was enough: Duo twisted around and, bringing his legs up, used his feet as a springboard to push the attacker up and away. The man fell back as Duo scrambled to his feet – and got his first good look at his attacker.

That face…

Duo froze, his mind going numb. He knew that face. He'd seen it every day for the past year: Gabriel, second-in-command of Relena's guards.

Gabriel, here in his apartment, meant that the one behind all this shit was…

_Heero_.

He'd been planning to knock his attacker out, but knowing who it _was_, he couldn't do it. Leaving Gabriel gasping for air on the floor, he snatched up his gun, desperation lending speed and strength to his weak body. The door was out; Mike – if that was his real name – would be waiting. He'd have to assume Heero had found his planned emergency escape methods, but if so, he had one chance – one tiny chance, but it was there.

The only problem would be to _not_ hesitate, or slow down, if – no, _when_ – he saw Heero. Because Heero would be there, he knew it as surely as he breathed.

He threw open the window and vaulted out, using one hand as a pivot on the sill, the gun gripped tightly in his right. He wasn't about to shoot Heero again, but a deluge of bullets would at least delay him. The metal of the fire escape rang and buckled under his feet when he landed, throwing him slightly off-balance, and he cursed out loud at the cheap thin alloy even as he ducked without looking around, knowing what would come – and heard the air whistling as a hand chopped downwards where the back of his neck had been, now a hair's breadth from the top of his head. He tucked his legs in and rolled away from the presence that was blocking the downwards stairs, springing to his feet with his gun out and trained steadily at the other end –

And there he was.

Duo's breath caught, and his throat felt tight, but no tears came: that much he'd learned from years with Heero, and it all came back to him now, staring into those beloved, deep blue eyes in that familiar face. Part of him noted that the other man was making no move forward, his hands loose and open at his sides, radiating calm – but that part of him was distant, the rest of his mind more concerned with examining every minute change to those features. That thin white line on one temple was a remnant from that time when the daughter of some disgraced OZ officer tried to off Relena up close and personal; that short jagged starburst of a scar was from debris from a terrorist bomb. His skin was lighter, now, though still that Asian brown-gold, and there were more of those fine lines that came with age. The only thing that hadn't changed, though, was –

"Your hair's still a mess."

They both blinked. Then Heero smiled, half-amused, half-bittersweet, as Duo repeatedly (albeit mentally) kicked himself for not watching his traitorous mouth. "Hello to you too, Duo," Heero said, an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. "That wasn't exactly what I was expecting, but I'll take what I can get."

"What were you expect – no," Duo interrupted himself. "That's not – stay where you are. Don't move. Hands where I can see 'em –"

Heero gave him a Look.

"Okay, right, well, keep… doing it." Duo inched backwards, his free left hand searching behind him by touch. "I don't know why you're here or what you want and I don't need to know, okay? Just, just leave me alone again – no, shit, I mean, just leave me alone. Okay?"

The expression that came over Heero's face left Duo baffled; it was a mixture of pain and grief and something else, which made no sense. His fists clenched and unclenched, obviously holding himself in place by sheer will. "I don't want to," he said quietly. "I don't want to leave you alone… again. Ever."

Duo's felt his chest constrict along with his already clogged throat. What did he mean? What did it mean that he'd acknowledged the _again_ bit? And why… why did he add that last word…?

Heero's voice interrupted his jumbled thoughts. "It's not there, by the way, don't bother searching for it."

"What?" was Duo's intelligent reply.

"The rope in the pulley system you rigged? I took it."

"Ah. Right." That served to clear his head, and Duo nodded, more to himself than anything. That's right… he'd been trying to escape, hadn't he? He needed to get out of here now; every second longer spent in Heero's presence made it harder and harder to leave. He was like a wandering, starving man in the desert, having forced himself to get used to a diet of cactuses few and far in between, but suddenly offered a buffet and a selection of beverages in return for his soul – and the longer he contemplated the feast, the more impossible it was to turn away…

And the more unimportant his soul became.

"Duo, there's so much I need to tell you –"

He fired, the bullet intentionally far from Heero's person, causing Heero to flinch reflexively. In that tiny space he flung himself over the rail, hand shooting out in mid-air to yank a cord hanging from underneath the platform. A rope tumbled out from the next platform down, and he grabbed it with his hands and feet, biting clear through his lip to keep from screaming at the rope burns on his palms – burns freaking _hurt_, a pervasive hurt that echoed to the very bones unlike other types of injuries. Letting go with his hands, his feet twisted around the rope, Duo slid down the rope upside-down in a controlled, inverted fireman's pole slide.

When he was near the ground, he bent at the waist in a parody of a sit-up, so that his back touched the ground first; from there, going along with the momentum, he gracefully executed a backwards tumble and jumped lightly to his feet – only to look up and see the first man, I'm-visiting-a-friend Mike, aiming a tranquilizer gun at him.

_Oh, shit –_

He managed to fling himself out of the way just in time. The-hallway's-too-narrow Mike looked startled, like he hadn't been expecting to miss and was now at a loss, and in a split second Duo pinned him as _civilian_ even as he leapt forward, using his shoulder to tackle the other man. Due to oh-look-I'm-so-harmless Mike's civilian status, Duo didn't hit him _too_ hard, only knocking the breath out of him. In a gentle way, and not vindictive whatsoever.

Running out of the alley, Duo gritted his teeth and willed himself to go deaf, hearing Heero cry out his name, anguish palpable in his voice, from above him – like an angel, grieving at the suffering below.

Like an angel, Heero shouldn't be sullied by anything.

Clinging to that thought, Duo ran harder than he'd run for ages, willing his heart to keep up with the damn programme and _stop hurting_. For that matter, his ears needed to cooperate, too – he'd run far and fast and even though, lost in the crowd, the babble of voices and the hum of traffic should have drowned out Heero's voice by now, he could still hear him calling. Just like an angel…

Or like a sin.

So very wrong, but still so very, terribly tempting…

Duo ran faster.

* * *

"It was very subtle, very well hidden – you had to know it was there. You're not omniscient, oh fearless one." Gabriel patted Heero on the shoulder.

"I should have _known_."

"Heero –"

"Just be quiet, alright? Go… go have make-out session or something."

Gabriel frowned and opened his mouth to retort, but Mike, knowing his boyfriend, clamped a hand over his mouth. When Gabriel turned his glare on him, the doctor shook his head minutely. When Gabriel continued to glare, he sighed and pulled him out of the room.

"Who does he think he is –" Gabriel began the moment the door closed behind them.

"Stop that," Mike said firmly. "What would _you_ do if you'd just lost me and someone was trying to cheer you up by telling you that, oh, you're not perfect and couldn't have seen the signs?"

Gabriel opened his mouth. He shut it again. Finally, with a rueful smile, he said, "I'd kick him in the nuts."

"Exactly." Mike smiled at Gabriel and tugged him close, wrapping his arms around him. "Give him some time."

Making a face, Gabriel slid his own arms around Mike's waist, resting his forehead against Mike's and closing his eyes. "Fine. You win."

"I always do," Mike said agreeably. "Because I'm always right."

"So you're the omniscient one, huh?"

"Someone has to be. I'm the mature one, too. And the beautiful one, and the smart one, and –"

"I hate you, you great insufferable git."

"I hate you too, you whiny little retard. What say we get some supper and leave the leader to his moping?"

"Supper sounds great, and that last bit sounds even better."

* * *

I'm starting to hate my muses for dragging this out for so long… I want to know what happens to Duo too! Grr. And since my muses are actually part of me, recently I suspect that I have developed multiple personality disorder. One bit of me is going, 'Let Heero suffer longer!' and one bit is going, 'Let _Duo_ suffer longer!" and yet one other bit is going, "This is turning into some Korean soap opera, next thing you know someone's going to get amnesia/hit by a car/an incurable disease/etc, let's just kill them off before things go _really_ bad.' And of course, there's the bit that's flailing about and yelling, 'Just get _on_ with it already!'

Help.

I think Mike and Gabriel are fast becoming my favourite OCs, yay.

Yes, I'm alive! And I'm really starting to get into writing again. This chapter is proof – Joke has always been hardest for me to write, and so being able to get this out, I'm pretty confident that the rest will be okay. Probably. Very likely. Wow, where did that confidence go…

**Ashen Skies**_  
"And the more unimportant his soul became."_


	8. Chapter Eight: Reunions

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write, because they're _obvious_. Thank you.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5xnot decided

**Timeline:** During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating:** R. Supposed to be NC-17, but… scowls

**Warnings:** Self-mutilation, cruel jokes…? Oh, and Relena-bashing. In an indirect way.

**Summary:** Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far**

_Chapter Eight_

* * *

After two days, Heero could only come to one conclusion. Either Duo:

1) really, really hated him, or

2) WAS A COMPLETE IDIOT.

It was the only explanation Heero could get for having contacted all the clinics and hospitals in the area around Duo's apartment, and even in the areas further out, and having them all report back that no patient suffering rope burns on both palms had come in. There hadn't even been a particularly frightened doctor anywhere to be found, either, which would definitely have indicated a Duo-ish presence around.

So the first possibility was that Duo hated him to the point of letting himself suffer burns while running far away, which didn't make sense because otherwise why would Duo have spent years protecting him and Relena? God forbid he did it for _Relena's_ sake.

Hmm.

Heero turned to Gabriel. "Is there a possibility that Duo could have transferred his affections to Relena?"

Gabriel's fingers stopped typing, and he gave Heero the most incredulous oh-my-god-my-boss-is-an-idiot look that the world had ever seen. Then he picked up his phone, and while Heero watched, mystified, he pressed a number on his speed dial.

"Hey, Mike? I think Heero's finally lost it. Would you please come and get me now, I don't want to be infected by moronic germs – hey!"

Heero scowled at him, having snatched the phone, and terminated the call. "I was just asking," he grumbled, tossing the phone back to Gabriel.

So that left option two, that Duo had tried to treat his wounds himself, which made him an idiot, because treating one hand with another equally injured hand was ridiculous, and using the treated hand – assuming that treating that hand had actually worked – to try and treat the other hand while all wrapped up and practically immobile was ridiculous, too. Which led to the conclusion that it was stupid and ridiculous for Duo to treat his wounds himself, and that he was an idiot for even thinking about it, because really, how was it remotely feasible? Did he plan to use his foot?

Hmm.

Heero turned to Gabriel. "Is there a possibility that Duo could have treated his wounds using his feet?"

Gabriel's head thunked onto the keyboard, making his computer beep in indignation. "God almighty, have I pissed you off lately?" he moaned piteously. "What have I done to deserve this? I can feel my brain rotting already, I really can, the worms of idiocy are infiltrating my –"

"My hypothesises are logically possible, alright?" Heero snapped, a little embarrassed.

"Then maybe it's time to stop using your brain?" Gabriel suggested.

"Then what do you expect me to use?"

Gabriel made a very inappropriate suggestion.

"That's what I was using the _last_ time, and look!"

"The last time?" Gabriel waggled his eyebrows.

Heero looked away. "During the war," he said shortly.

Gabriel sobered. "You never did tell me what happened," he said quietly.

"You don't need to know."

"Heero –"

"I'm going to look around." Heero stood abruptly and fairly ran out of the door, pausing only to grab his jacket off the back of his chair.

"Again?" Gabriel called, but Heero was gone, and he sighed in resignation. It had to have been really bad, for Mr Maxwell to run so hard, for Quatre and Trowa and Wufei to still treat Heero with a measure of reserve, for that lost look to come into Heero's eyes every time the topic was mentioned. The curiosity was _killing_ him, really, but there was no one Gabriel could ask who would answer. He sighed again, and turned back to his work.

Half an hour later, the phone rang.

"Hello –"

"_Get Mike over here now._" Heero rattled off an address, and then the line went dead.

The call had taken all of five seconds. It took another three seconds for Gabriel to process it, and then he let out a whoop, pressing the button to speed-dial Mike and missing it twice in his delight. They'd found him! And then, as Mike answered, sounding cross, Gabriel's smile faded, because he realized that Heero asking for Mike in that urgent, panicked voice meant that Duo was in a bad condition.

"Hey, Mike, we found him, but I don't think he's doing well, Heero sounds frantic…"

* * *

_Then maybe it's time to stop using your brain?_

Gabriel's words kept running through his mind. They'd been said in jest, but… some uncomfortable part of Heero knew that it was all too true.

He'd treated their relationship – if it could be called that – during the war as an intellectual exercise. If neither party was injured due to the relationship, and at least one party gained from it, then it was of net benefit. And logically Duo had been able to back out anytime he wanted. But that wasn't true, was it? Well, _technically_ it was true, and that was the problem right there.

If he wanted to analyse it more deeply, the fact was that he knew that while there were physically no injuries, the wounds were unseen and deeper than he'd thought – and everything that had happened recently just confirmed it. If he wanted to analyse it, he'd made sure that Duo _felt_ that he couldn't back out, so while he was actually capable of doing so, he couldn't.

And that was just the start of it.

Heero stopped dead in the middle of the street. He realised that while he'd been _aware_ of the fact that using his brain with Duo hadn't gotten him anywhere, he'd still been logical and clear-headed by thinking things through in dealing with Duo. He'd assumed that while Duo should have another escape route via a rope of some kind from the fire escape, the chances of him using that were slim, since the risk of serious injury was high. He'd assumed that Duo had put it there for more dangerous enemies, and that he wouldn't use such means just to run from him.

And he'd assumed that as a trained warrior, Duo would know that it was best to receive medical attention before moving, and he'd assumed that Duo would clear the area immediately in order to get that attention, since to get medical help in the area was to deliver himself into Heero's hands. It was why he'd been concentrating on the wider areas, and not the immediate vicinity, in his search. Yet if Duo knew the chances of being found were higher if he ran further, and if he knew that finding a doctor of any kind raised the chance of being found…

What if he'd stayed in the area, his wounds untreated, for two days? It was completely illogical, and went against all common sense, but this was _Duo_.

And Duo had never adhered with the rules.

If that was the case – Heero's chest felt tight. Duo would have been in immense pain for two days, hiding alone, unable to go out and get food or water because of his hands and because of _him_, Heero. Perhaps he himself was the idiot, not Duo.

Heero began running, recalling the three sites in the area that Duo might have hidden in. Gabriel had searched them once, but he'd instructed the other man to conduct only a cursory search and turn more of his time and efforts to what he'd previously thought were the higher-possibility areas. The site where construction had temporarily halted was the most dangerous one, and so lowest on his list – wait, wait, if Duo had anticipated that he'd think this way, then shouldn't it be the _highest_ on his list? But then if – okay, no, this was leading nowhere. Besides, wherever Duo was hiding, it wasn't likely that he would change locations in broad daylight, and there was enough time to search all three places before dusk.

Duo wasn't at the temporarily-halted site, nor was he at the abandoned building. If he wasn't at the empty apartment block waiting to be torn down… Heero mentally composed a list of further possible locations as he entered the run-down, eerily quiet lobby of the apartment block.

Searching room by room was insane, so he would have to guess. Probably not the first floor, but nothing higher than the third, for escaping purposes. Not a room near the middle, but one near the stairs, and not the lifts. It still left a lot of rooms to search, but Heero had time, and he had a purpose.

Heero moved silently with the ease of long practice, his rubber-soled shoes not making any noise at all, cushioned by the dust on the floor. He paused outside every door, listening hard, before moving on when there was nothing but complete silence. Nothing on the first floor, nothing on the second… he was about to leave the third floor when he heard it.

A tiny shift in the stillness, so small that he wasn't even sure if it was his imagination.

Heero froze outside the door, so similar to the others. There was nothing to make it stand out from the other doors, and yet… and yet… his fists clenched.

He opened the door.

The main room was empty, and there was no hint or sound of movement from the other adjoining rooms that would mean Duo trying to run again. There was dust everywhere, too, undisturbed, even on the floor. His hopes fell a little, but he walked further into the room anyway, looking around.

A flash of black caught his eye, and he strode to the bedroom door, his heart in his throat, and pushed it open.

Duo was lying curled up on the bed.

Emotion threatened to choke him, and as it was, he was held immobilized. Elation warred with horror – Duo unconscious and in no state to run meant that Heero could finally bring him back with him, but it also meant that Duo is in a very bad shape. He was almost completely white, with a tinge of green, and he was shivering non-stop. Sweat beaded his skin, testament to a fever, and his hands –

Heero almost moaned out loud, but stifled it in time; for fear that he would wake Duo up. Duo's hands were pus-filled and raw, bleeding. He'd been right, Duo hadn't tried to treat his hands, and now his palms were badly infected.

Backing out of the room silently, Heero made it out to the hallway. He called Gabriel, telling him to get Mike and giving him the address, as he ran out of the building, heading straight for the pharmacy he'd remembered passing by. He bought two bottles of disinfectant, plus a syringe, and pulled his Preventers status (Une had asked him to be a part-time agent, on standby for emergencies) to buy a bottle of liquid sedative.

The fear that Duo would have vanished by the time he got back made Heero run harder than he'd ever run, back to the apartment block. It was an irrational fear – in that state, Duo wasn't going anywhere – but the other man had disappeared on him so many times before that he couldn't help but worry. He slowed his pace, quieting his movements, when he reached the third floor hallway, and his was positively silent as he moved into the apartment where Duo was in.

His knees went weak with relief when he saw Duo still there, still unconscious. Carefully, moving cat-like around the room, Heero put his supplies down on the bedside table, and prepared the sedative, calculating and measuring the proper amount, making sure there were no air bubbles. For all his preparations, though, he knew that it was likely that Duo would wake when the needle went in; he was a trained soldier, after all. Nothing for it, though, and the sedative would take effect soon enough,

Duo stirred when Heero inserted the needle and slowly pressed the plunger, injecting the liquid. Violet eyes dulled by pain and sleep fluttered into view. "…'ro?" he mumbled.

"Shh, just sleep," Heero whispered, stroking Duo's hair with his free hand, pulling out the syringe with the other. He brushed Duo's fringe out of his face, and tried to smile. "I'm here. I won't ever leave again. I promise."

He continued whispering as the sedative began to take effect, Duo's eyes closing again. When he was sure Duo was fully unconscious once again, he stood, hands leaving Duo with reluctance, and picked up the alcohol disinfectant. He knew that this would hurt like a bitch, which was the other reason why he'd sedated Duo. He didn't want the other man to feel any more pain than was necessary.

He gently shifted Duo so that his hands were hanging over the side of the bed. Taking one hand, he carefully poured the liquid over the burns. Even unconscious, Duo's body reacted, twitching; his fingers convulsed once. Heero could only imagine how painful the alcohol must be, and he murmured apologies that Duo couldn't hear, his heart aching.

"I won't let you get hurt anymore," he vowed to the sleeping figure.

Heero had switched to the second bottle and the other hand when he heard footsteps. They were muffled, and the rhythm was slightly off, like the people approaching were trying not to make any noise. He raised his voice without raising his eyes off the task before him, and called, "Just come in already."

Immediately the footsteps picked up the pace, and out of the corner of his eye Heero watched Gabriel and Mike run into the room, each carrying a large white case with the medical red cross emblazoned. "My god," Gabriel gasped when he saw Duo's hands.

Mike's lips tightened into a fine line, and he dropped down onto his knees next to Heero, with no thought for the dust. Setting his case on the ground, he went to work without a word, examining Duo carefully. As Heero was putting the empty bottle back on the table, out of their way, Mike sat back and signalled to Gabriel to come over.

He took the case from Gabriel and opened it, taking out various items and passing them to Heero and Gabriel. "It looks like he hasn't had any water; let's get him on a temporary drip until we get to the hospital. Heero, I assume you know it works, just tell Gabriel what to do. I'll finish treating his hands." He picked up the bottle of sedative on the table and nodded as he looked at the label. "Not what I normally use, but this will do. Let's get to work."

For the next half hour, Heero and Gabriel hooked Duo up to the temporary drip while Mike picked at the half-formed scabs and the pus-filled pockets on Duo's hands, completing the job that the disinfectant had started. When Heero and Gabriel were done, Heero began work on the other hand, Gabriel hovering over them.

Since Mike was faster and more thorough, Heero's grasp of medical knowledge being put to less practical use than the doctor, they switched hands when Mike was done, Heero taking over the gauze-taping and the wrapping as Mike took over the cleaning. Soon they were done.

"Gabriel, you hold the drip; Heero, you carry him," Mike instructed as he packed his equipment. "Let's get him to the hospital."

Heero bent down and carefully took Duo into his arms, trying his level best not to bump into the white-wrapped hands. He bit back a curse when he realized how _light _Duo was. He knew the other man looked thin and worn, but to actually hold that bony frame and have the fact thrown into his face – god, he had so much to make up for.

"Do you know where the Preventers' hospital is?" he asked Mike.

"Two blocks from the headquarters, right?"

"Yes. I have more influence there, and Une will back me up on any medical decisions I make for Duo, I'm sure of it."

"Fine. The Preventers' it is, then."

Gabriel's laugh was short and little strained. "Man, are they ever going to be in for a surprise."

* * *

"I have Commander Une's full authorization to make any medical decision pertaining to this case. Are you trying to defy your commanding officer's direct orders?"

The dark, dangerous voice was soft, but carried perfectly down the Preventers' hospital corridor, perhaps because everyone on that level was trying to keep the noise level down while straining to hear what was happening in the room. It wasn't every day the dead came back to life, especially the famous, heroic saved-the-world dead.

It wasn't every day that you heard a doctor being told that his handling of a patient was 'brutish and outdated', either.

So it wasn't surprising that everyone on the floor was listening raptly as they heard the doctor assigned to Mr Maxwell bluster, "I am a practicing doctor, and I think my knowledge of medical treatments is far more extensive than yours –"

"But my knowledge of the patient far outweighs _yours_, doctor," came that cold voice again. "Don't you agree, doctor, that you tailor the treatment according to the patient's needs? You wouldn't give a tetanus shot to a cancer patient."

"That has nothing to do –"

"That has everything to do with it, _doctor_." The voice was now so cold that people started edging away from the door, for fear of frostbite. "If you cannot work with me on this, then you may dismiss yourself from this case. In fact, please do so. I will find another more competent doctor who can see past his nose."

"You –"

A blur of white and blonde swept down the corridor and into the room in a flash, calling, "Doctor Jonas, please calm yourself. This is a hospital."

"Doctor Po! This – this _man_, here –"

They heard the calm, unflappable tones of a woman, speaking softly and quickly, but the firmness in it was clear. After a moment, Doctor Jonas stalked out of the room, looking harassed and scowling. He glared in general at the people around, having seen their instant head-turns when he had come out, and stormed off towards the elevators.

Inside the room, Sally shook her head at Heero, with an amused smile. "Heero, Doctor Jonas was just trying to do his job. He may be a little uptight and a stickler for the books, but he's a good doctor."

"I _told_ him about Duo's medical history, a good doctor wouldn't have insisted on giving him a drug that I made clear wrecked havoc with Duo's system –"

"But that drug is the norm for burns and infections; I told you he was one for going by the book."

"Duo's not your conventional patient!"

"Yes, that's why I hurried up as soon as I heard. I knew Doctor Jonas was the wrong man for this case, but he happened to be the doctor on hand." Sally placed a gentling hand on Heero's arm. "In any case, I'm handling Duo now, so tell me quickly what you know and we'll go from there, alright?"

Heero took a deep breath, and then let it out heavily. He did trust Sally. "Fine," he said when he reigned in his temper. "First of all – no morphine, Duo hates the effects of morphine…"

He told her all he knew of Duo's physical oddities from when they'd patched each other up during the war, and let her get to work on Duo, watching worriedly by the side. Sally unwrapped Duo's hands to check the wounds, and nodded approvingly.

"This treatment was well done. Who did it?"

"A doctor friend. Two of them helped me bring Duo in, but they left." Gabriel and Mike, once they'd brought Duo safely to the hospital, had left so that Heero could get more private time with Duo.

Sally nodded absently, getting a nurse to rewrap them while rattling off orders for treating the burns and infection. She drew blood for a blood test and sent it off, ordering them to make it first priority, then checked Duo's stomach wound.

"He has the beginnings of pneumonia, from what I can hear," she told Heero as she listened to Duo's breathing. "Probably due to his immune system being almost shot to hell, and from not taking care of himself – the nights have been cold lately, and the infection didn't help. He'll be greatly weakened when he wakes up."

"I'll be there to help him," Heero said immediately. "Just make sure he gets better."

Sally eyed him. "To be frank, Heero, I'm not sure if your presence will help or hinder."

He looked back at her, expressionless. "Why would you think that?"

The blonde doctor sighed. "Something went on between you and Duo, right?"

"Why would you think that?" Heero repeated, his face as blank as ever, but inside his mind was racing. What did she know, or suspect? How did she come by the information? The joke and its consequences should have been a secret within only the five pilots, and everyone else should have known only that Duo died, not that he had committed suicide or why.

"Come off it, Heero. I have eyes and ears and a mind. After Duo… was declared dead, the other three wonder-boys gave you the cold shoulder, and you went around like a zombie." She sighed. "I don't mean to pry, but if you did something to hurt him, then it might be better if you stay away."

Heero looked at her for a long time, thinking hard. To her credit, Sally looked back steadily, not backing down. Finally Heero said, "Whatever happened in the past, I am going to make it up to Duo, in any way, in every way. I swore that I wouldn't leave him ever again, and I intend to keep that oath. No one, not even you, Sally, can make me leave. That's all I will say."

They stared at each other for another long moment. Then Sally gave in, shaking her head. "I'll come back when the blood work's in," was all she said before leaving.

Relieved that she didn't argue further, Heero drew up a chair and sat by Duo's bedside, taking the long braid in his hands. A feeling of déjà vu hit him as he gazed at Duo, lying there; he looked down at the braid in his hands, and remembered:

_The sunlight was weak, but directly in his eyes, and so it woke him. Heero narrowed his eyes against the light, and turned his head to the other side, away from the window. He should get up soon, but for some reason he didn't feel like moving._

_A head of chestnut hair greeted him, and he shoved away the passing thought that it was an altogether better sight than the sun. He tilted his gaze downwards; Maxwell was still sleeping, lips parted, expression relaxed. With a jolt, Heero realized that it had been a long time since he'd seen that completely relaxed face._

_He remembered that when they'd first met, Maxwell had always been smiling and relaxed. Sometimes the smile was a mask, but that air of ease was always there. Whatever he did, he did it whole-heartedly and he only did it if he believed it was right, and so there was never any excess doubt or stress to take away his easy-going manner._

_Lately, though, he couldn't remember seeing that air of ease anymore. There was always an edge of falseness to it, now, as if it took an effort to keep up. Eyebrows that were just that little bit furrowed, a smile that was just that little bit sad, eyes that were just that little bit strained at the corners._

_When had he noticed all this about Duo Maxwell? He'd analysed the other boy before, sure, but only his character, to ascertain that he was not a threat and to find the best way he could be put to use. Didn't he loathe Maxwell for manipulating him? Didn't he hate Maxwell for making his body crave things it shouldn't?_

_The sun was rising, and the light was slanting further in through the window. In another few minutes it would reach Maxwell._

_For some reason this was not acceptable. Heero looked thoughtfully at the sleeping boy, and reasoned that an operative needed to be able to operate, which meant he needed sleep. Last night they'd been in bed early, but had actually fallen asleep late; furthermore the intercourse had been… vigorous. Very well, he would let Maxwell sleep in then._

_Gently he eased out of bed, not disturbing the other boy. Padding silently over to the window, he carefully drew the curtains shut, making sure that the wooden rings didn't scrape too loudly on the bar as they moved. Light still shone through the curtains, but it was muted, just enough to warm the room._

_Turning around to look at the bed once again when the curtains were fully closed, Heero's eye was drawn to the sleeping figure, who almost seemed to glow in the soft light. The thin blanket draped along his body, following the supple lines of those limbs, and as Heero's gaze traced those lines, he felt an emotion surging in him. It was something like the lust he felt whenever he had intercourse with Maxwell, but slightly different – disturbingly so, and it was growing every day, creeping up on him more and more often, whenever he watched Maxwell move about his duties._

_He didn't know what it was, but it was distracting, and very irrational. So, as usual, he pushed it away. He was getting good at that, with so much practice._

_Maxwell suddenly shifted, making him tense, but the other pilot stopped moving again with a quiet sigh, still asleep. One end of his long braid slipped over the edge of the bed. Heero started forward without thinking, and then he stopped mid-step. What was he doing? Was he really following up on an impulse, when he'd been taught to think and act logically and to ignore impulses, all his life?_

_But – Maxwell followed impulses, and even Heero had to admit that he was a damn good operative, though he would never say this to the idiot's face. So impulses weren't so bad, were they? And anyway, this was a simple thing, and would have no repercussions; no one was around to witness it but him._

_Mind made up, Heero moved forward again. He knelt down and picked up the end of the braid, meaning to simply place it back onto the bed's surface again – but he paused. Maxwell's hair was surprisingly soft, silky, and heavy and warm, unlike his own rough hair. He'd thought Maxwell frivolous for the time and effort he spent on his hair, but now he suddenly felt like this… wasn't such a bad thing._

_He felt the urge to stroke that braid, soft and silky and warm, and since his earlier impulse was turning out to be pretty interesting, he decided to just do it. He stroked his fingers down the braid, and marvelled once again at the texture that mere hair could achieve. For a brief moment he wondered if he should start taking better care of his own._

_Unconscious of his own actions, Heero raised the braid to his noise and breathed in deep. Maxwell's hair had a light, heady scent – perhaps the scent was better kept when trapped within the folds of a braid, some analytical part of him mused – like flowers. Or vanilla, perhaps? Heero took another breath. Yes, vanilla._

_It was… a pleasant scent, and he felt drawn into it. That disconcerting tide of emotion welled up again, but he pushed it back without thinking, he was so used to it._

_Heero lowered the braid, and raised his gaze – Maxwell's sleeping face was right before him. Close up, there was a slight weariness to the tilt of those eyes and lips, and Heero felt vaguely guilty, and his chest hurt a little. Odd. His gaze travelled from closed eyes, to strong nose, to parted lips, to stubborn chin, and down…_

_An expanse of glowing skin, a prominent collarbone, a bared shoulder. Was the skin as smooth as it looked? Would its texture be unexpectedly soft, just like his hair? Almost in a trance, Heero reached out, and ran a gentle finger along the curve of that shoulder. Yes, it was amazingly soft, and so very warm._

_Duo was… intoxicating._

_Then reason and sense returned to him in a painful rush, and Heero dropped the braid, snatching his hand back. He stood so abruptly that he swayed on his feet, and a small noise involuntarily escaped his throat. He froze, his gaze trained on Duo._

_The other boy moved. "Heero?" he murmured. He propped himself up on an elbow, covering a yawn with his free hand, and looked up with sleepy violet eyes. "Oh. Good mor –"_

_Heero didn't wait for him to finish his sentence; it was too much. He didn't know what 'it' was, nor did he know why the simple act of watching Duo wake and hearing his greeting would cause That Feeling to almost overwhelm him, but he knew that he needed to get out of the room before he lost his senses completely. His heart was pounding, and his chest was tight – why? Why did Duo elicit these inexplicable emotions?_

_Duo was dangerous. There was no doubt about it._

_It wasn't until a few days later until Heero realized that Maxwell had become 'Duo' in his mind, but like all other Duo-related matters, he ignored it, as if it had never happened._

_And when he began to develop a liking for vanilla, he ignored that as well. After all, it wasn't like it was anything important at all._

"Heero?"

He looked up at Sally Po, blinking himself out of the memory. "Sally," he acknowledged.

There was an odd look on her face. "You were… smiling."

He shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "Was I?"

"Fond memories?"

"In a way." Heero nodded at the file in her hands. "Are those the results of the blood test?"

"Oh! Yes, they are." Sally opened the file, and ran her finger down the page, reading off the results. "Nothing fatal, but he's anaemic. He needs more of everything, actually – more minerals, more vitamins – but his iron level's the worst. We'll add what's necessary to his IV, but he'll need to supplement his meals with iron pills."

Heero nodded sharply. "I will see to it."

Sally hesitated. Finally she seemed to come to a decision, and said, "Since it's you, I'm going to be blunt, alright?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"You love him, don't you?"

Well, that was… unexpected. "That _is_ blunt."

She snorted. "Like you aren't the king of bluntness. Stop avoiding my question, Yuy."

"Why would you think that?"

Sally rolled her eyes. "Would you stop asking that? Geez, will it kill you to be upfront?" She shook her head. "But I think that way because of the way you smiled. I've never seen you so… soft before."

It was his turn to snort. "Soft? I'm never soft."

"Just now you were," Sally said quietly.

Heero had no answer to that.

Sally sighed. "Damn. I suspected as much, but I was still unsure because it's _you_ we're talking about. That does change things, somewhat. You really meant it when you said that nothing could make you leave Duo's side, didn't you? You meant it when you said you'd do anything to make up for whatever shit you did before."

He smiled wryly. "Even if he doesn't want my apology, even if he doesn't want me to stay, I will not leave."

She sighed again, and then rubbed her face with a hand. "You'd better. Look, Heero – thing is –"

This did not sound good. "Just say it."

"I really thought that your being here wasn't going to be good for Duo. I knew he had feelings for you, when we worked together during the war – even the blind could see it – and I knew you had to have done something pretty awful, for him to have vanished after the war like that. So I figured it'd hurt him to have you around, because you're Heero Yuy and you don't love anyone, not even yourself."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you a psychologist, as well?"

"I did a stint once. Not the point, Yuy." She pointed a finger at him. "If you do love him back, though, then it's different. I want a straight answer from you, okay? Do you –"

"I love him," Heero said simply. "It took me a while to understand, but I do. I will do anything to stay by his side, and to make up to him for what I have done, even if it may take a few lifetimes to do that."

Sally's finger remained pointed at him as she stared in amazement. Then she seemed to remember what she was doing, and she dropped her hand. "You've changed," she said without preamble. "You'd have died before saying anything like that in the past."

Heero just shrugged.

Her eyes softened. "Okay, I won't push." Then she winced. "I'm sorry, Heero."

"For what?" he said, confused.

"When I was waiting for the blood work, when I still thought you should leave, I kind of… I mean, I wanted you gone, but I couldn't make you –"

Heero understood suddenly. "You called the other three."

She nodded. "I thought they were the only ones who could make you leave. They're on their way. They wouldn't believe me when I told them Duo was alive, at first, but when it sank in I didn't even have the time to finish what I was saying before the line was cut off."

It was Heero's turn to wince. "I wanted to wait until Duo and I were okay again before telling them," he muttered in an explanation to no one in particular.

"Don't you think they would have found out –" Sally began.

"Is that your real reason, Heero Yuy?" a crisp voice snapped from the doorway. "Or were you just afraid to face us?"

Heero turned, already knowing what – who – he would see. And there they were, physically unchanged from the last time he'd seen them, though this time at least they weren't about to kill him slowly and torturously.

Quatre, Trowa and Wufei stood in the doorway. And they did not look happy.

* * *

Cliffhanger!

Yay, people do like Mike and Gabriel, my own favourite OCs! Of course, they're my _only_ OCs, but details, details.

Some people were complaining that Duo should stop managing to run away and just get caught already, while others were rooting for Duo to stay just out of Heero's reach. Sorry to the latter group, things just turned out this way, and to the former group: yay!

But don't worry. Duo isn't going to give in easily at all. Though I do feel like Heero's been suffering enough. He hasn't had such an easy time either, you know, it's not like he hurt Duo on purpose. He just didn't understand. I feel bad for him, really, since everyone seems to want him to SUFFER.

I need to clarify something, since one comment brought this up. Chapter Four is continued on my LiveJournal. The link is on the page. If you don't know what Heero did to Duo for all this stuff to be happening, then you didn't read the part that's missing, which is missing because it's too explicit for FFnet. It's probably the most IMPORTANT part of the story, so yes. You… should probably read it, though I do warn you it's a bit disturbing. And did I mention explicit?

Okay, and those who want more flashbacks, wriggle your ears. I'm wondering if the flashbacks are getting boring. Those who just want the story to get on with it, um… shake your hips?

**Ashen Skies  
**_"My hypothesises are logically possible, alright?"_


	9. Chapter Nine: Revelations

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write, because they're _obvious_. Thank you.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5xnot decided

**Timeline:** During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating:** R. Supposed to be NC-17, but… scowls

**Warnings:** Self-mutilation, cruel jokes…? Oh, and Relena-bashing. In an indirect way.

**Summary:** Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far**

_Chapter Nine_

* * *

"_Yuy. We need to talk."_

_Heero looked up from his laptop. "I am in the middle of a report –"_

"_The report can wait."_

_The report can wait? Heero frowned. "This is not like you, Chang."_

_Wufei scowled back, but half-heartedly. "I know that. However, I feel that this matter is of the utmost importance."_

_If any of the other pilots had said it, Heero might not have given in so quickly. But since it was Chang Wufei, who understood duty and obligation like the others didn't, Heero nodded once and turned to face him. He didn't want to admit that he felt a certain kinship with Wufei, ever since that day…_

_Quatre and Trowa had put the matter behind them, since Duo appeared to have all but forgotten it – _

_or more to the point, since he and Duo seemed to be in a steady relationship, an illusion which Duo encouraged. The other pilot couple were still a little standoffish at times, however, to Heero and Wufei. This was expected, and so Heero did not concern himself with it much._

_Wufei took a deep breath, and then said calmly, "I would like the both of us to apologise properly to Maxwell, Winner and Barton."_

_There was no need to specify which matter he was talking about. Heero stared. They had already given their apologies to Quatre and Trowa long ago, in the name of peace. "That matter happened a long time ago. Your reason for this sudden decision being..?"_

"_It is not sudden. I have been thinking about the matter." Wufei looked away. "Our previous apologies were not sincere, and therefore not acceptable. We did not truly feel apologetic then. However, working with Maxwell this year has given me new insight to his character, and I am ashamed of myself for what I did. He is a person worthy of respect and I feel that we have misjudged him completely."_

"_Why now, though?"_

_Wufei smiled briefly. "This last mission Maxwell and I were on, his tactics saved both our lives and the mission, but not before he almost sacrificed himself in my place. His actions have shamed my own petty ones."_

_Those words made him more uncomfortable than he had thought possible previously. Heero turned back to his laptop, not looking at Wufei, and began typing again. "Then take whatever course of action you think is best. I do not see why I have to be involved."_

_He could hear the stunned silence from the doorway. Then Wufei said, voice a little strangled, "You are refusing to admit that you committed a grave mistake?"_

"_I already apologized, as did you."_

_Silence again. Then Wufei said, disbelief and scorn clear, "I thought better of you, Yuy. This is an ironic turn of events – the man I thought most worthy of respect is a disappointment, where the man I thought worthless turns out to be someone I am proud to call a friend and a comrade." Sharp footsteps that faded down the hallway signalled Wufei's leave._

_Only then did Heero pause in his typing and stare unseeingly at the screen. Wufei didn't know. He didn't know what else has transpired between the two of them after the joke had originally been played – Duo was still his normal happy, idiotic self when the others were around, so no one had any idea that anything was wrong._

_If Heero apologised to Duo, it would mean that he was the one in the wrong. That he admitted that he had done something terrible, and then there would be no reason for them to continue their physical relationship._

_If he apologised, Duo would leave. That was not acceptable._

_From that day onwards, Wufei joined Trowa and Quatre in becoming more distant from him than before. For Duo's sake, and for the sake of his and Duo's apparent relationship, and since Duo himself seemed to have forgiven and forgotten, they did not shun Heero outright, but the message was clear._

_It didn't matter. He was a soldier, and as long as his fellow soldiers were professional on the battlefield, he did not need anything else from them. Friendship, comradeship, those were superfluous. This he believed._

_Sometimes, though, at night, listening to the laughter in a room far from his, he wondered if he was making a mistake. He never dwelled on the thought, however, but instead went to sleep, because in sleep he did not think, and he did not dream._

Three against him alone, and Duo apart from it all – a familiar group dynamic, from days long gone. The memory flashed past his mind in an instant, and then he nodded at the three figures in the doorway of Duo's hospital room as Sally quietly slipped out past them.

"Winner, Chang, Barton," he acknowledged, and braced himself for a slew of scathing comments. Quatre especially had a sharp tongue capable of going on forever, where Wufei's comments were straight to the point and Trowa's one-liners cut to the bone.

Quatre did not disappoint. "I cannot believe you neglected to tell us that Duo was alive! For a month! A _month_, Yuy! You should have told us the moment you left Relena's service – and that little _bitch_, I just met her for tea two weeks ago! We had to find out from Sally that Duo was alive and then from Gabriel that you'd known for a month! I am going to _kill_ Gabriel when I next see him, too!"

"Did you want to reconcile with Duo before you met us so that he could plead for you on your behalf?" Trowa said in that quiet but devastating way of his, and Heero knew that there was a ring of truth in that sentence – a shameful, small truth, but still there all the same.

"Whatever reason you come up with, Yuy, will not be adequate. I hope you know that. You should have told us the moment you knew, no matter what." Wufei, blunt as always. "You had no right to hide it."

Heero looked in turn at each of them – Quatre, so furious he didn't know who to start being furious with first; Trowa, ever the calm one, but with that glint in his green eyes; Wufei, with his familiar scowl – and realized that he had missed them. Seeing Duo again, thinking about Duo again, allowing himself to miss Duo again… his emotions had been given a new lease on life in the past month, and now, confronted with these three people from his past, he felt regret, and a strange wistfulness.

He stood up, but kept the end of Duo's braid in his hand. "I apologise," he said without prevarication. He bowed his head. "I was wrong to keep this from you; Duo is your friend, and you have treasured him more than I have, or was willing to admit. I simply wanted… I wanted to have some time alone with him, before the three of you inevitably tried to take him away from me."

"And you would deserve it if we had," Quatre snapped.

"Yes," Heero admitted quietly. "Yes, I would deserve it – but I have become selfish when it comes to Duo. Perhaps I have always been. I know you do not trust me, but I will not be parted from Duo. Do whatever else you wish."

There was silence, but he did not dare look up. He deserved every bit of their anger, after all, and he would suffer their scorn willingly, as long as they didn't try to take Duo away from him.

Finally, Wufei's voice broke the silence. "That Peacecraft woman – did she really forge –?"

"Yes," Heero said, anger rising again at the very thought. "I am willing to bet that she also did something to make Duo go into hiding in the first place."

"I knew she was overly obsessive when it came to you, but this is too much," Trowa said darkly, his voice surprisingly intense.

"Did you really slap her?" Quatre wanted to know. Heero just nodded, a little ashamed of himself for striking a woman – but feeling completely guilt-free, and even a little satisfied.

"_Good_," was Quatre's surprisingly vindictive pronouncement.

It was enough to make Heero look up reflexively in surprise and catch Quatre's bright eyes. Their gazes locked for a long moment. Then Quatre sighed deeply. "We heard you," he said reluctantly.

Heero was confused by this utterly random statement, and he supposed it showed on his face, because Quatre rolled his eyes and elaborated. "We heard you talking to Sally."

Ah.

"Damn, I can never stay angry when something like this happens," Quatre muttered, almost to himself. He marched up to Heero, who stood still on the spot, with a slight deer-in-the-headlights look. Prodding Heero's chest with one finger and the other hand on his hip, Quatre got right up in Heero's face and narrowed his eyes. "I'm going to take one last chance on you, Heero Yuy, and entrust Duo to you, if only because the only person _he_ will be happy with is _you_. You had better mean what you said about loving him, mean it with every fibre of your being, or you'll have to face my wrath, got it?"

Heero nodded, and somehow found the voice to say, "I won't let you down." He hesitated, and then added, much more softly, "Again."

Quatre's expression of righteous fury wavered, and then dissolved as he threw his arms around Heero. This time Heero really did freeze, lost as to what to do. He looked pleadingly at Trowa and Wufei for help before remembering that they were still angry with him – but Trowa was smiling, faintly, and Wufei just looked exasperated. Heero was more confused than ever.

"Why the sudden turnabout?" he couldn't help but ask, bewildered. "Don't you hate me? _I_ hate myself for what I did."

"It never felt right without you in our circle, Yuy," Wufei informed him tartly. "We are five, not four, not three-and-two or any other combination. It was never right when we had to be angry with you when you were being a blind, mule-headed asshole."

Heero blinked.

Quatre released him and stepped back, eyes suspiciously bright. "We know you better than you know yourself, Heero. I knew that your relationship with Duo wasn't as right as it seemed, and I knew that you were fighting what you felt for him, but I couldn't – _we_ couldn't do anything about it when you were dead set on denying everything. And Duo wasn't any help, either, he just kept protecting you –"

"I think what Quatre is saying," Trowa interrupted gently, "is that we never hated _you_, we just hated the part of you that you cut off from your feelings and put on as a front to the world. War doesn't exactly bring out the best side of people, and we were all unbalanced to begin with anyway. We of all people know that you are a good man, and that you _do_ know the right thing to do and all the wrong things to do, when you let yourself face up to it."

"So…" Heero tried to make sense of his world doing headstands. "You don't hate me anymore?"

"As long as this honest streak of yours lasts," Wufei said dryly. "You have to do right by Maxwell, however. That is one thing that you can be sure we will be monitoring very closely."

Heero didn't hesitate at all as he said, "Of course."

Quatre was smiling as he retreated to the other side of Duo's bed, pulling up another chair and resting his hand on Duo's arm, carefully avoiding the bandaged hands, as he sat down. Trowa went to stand by his side, resting his own hand on Quatre's shoulder and giving Heero an affirming nod.

Wufei came over to stand by Heero's side, looking down at Maxwell. "Welcome back, Yuy," he said gruffly, and then bent down to pat Duo's blanket-covered knee. "Welcome back, Maxwell," he said more softly.

"Now. Tell us everything. We want to hear it from your point of view, Yuy, and believe me, we will grill you until you scream."

* * *

_I can't believe you…_

…_stupid, bull-headed…_

…_ought to punch you a few more times…_

…_surprised Duo hasn't given up on you yet._

Familiar voices, strains of anger running in them. Familiar voices, and there could only be one target.

Heero.

Years of protecting Heero, defending him, came into play, and Duo forced himself to struggle against the seductive darkness, against the urge to just let himself rest. Heero came first.

He heard himself groan, as if from very far away, and the voices fell silent. Encouraged, he tried to move, and succeeded in twitching a finger.

Which brought a dulled spike of agony – dulled, but agony nonetheless. It woke him the rest of the way up in a hurry.

"Ow…"

"He's awake!" That teary joy could only be Quatre.

"Don't try to move your hands," a gentle voice said – Trowa.

"You don't say," Duo said – or tried to, anyway. His voice cut off on the second word and he started coughing; his mouth was so dry it hurt. He kept his eyes closed against the too-bright light, wanting to ask someone to turn it down but not being able to due to the incessant coughing.

Hands pulled him upwards, and a sliver of ice was pushed between his lips. He sucked at it greedily, feeling welcome moisture seep back into his mouth.

"Not too fast," Wufei's voice warned. "Why aren't you –"

"The alternative painkillers make his eyes sensitive to light. Take the ice chips; I'll go draw the blinds."

At the sound of that voice, reality smashed back into Duo's brain in a hurry, and he became the world's first person to choke on melting ice chips. A flurry of voices cried out his name, but he was too busy trying to get a grip on his emotions to pay attention.

_Heero was here_.

Furthermore, _here_ was apparently a hospital room, and the hospital room apparently contained four people he'd never thought he'd see face to face again.

He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. It had become such a reflex to step between the other pilots and Heero that he hadn't realized that for him to be _able_ step between the other pilots and Heero, the other pilots and Heero had to be _there_. Next to him, near him, in his presence. Aware of his being alive. After two long, long years.

The lights were dim now, and he knew he could open his eyes in comfort, but he didn't want to. He was aware of how pathetic the past two years of his existence had been, was aware that in the past, the Duo Maxwell they knew would never have let himself be put in a situation that would end up with him in a hospital bed with two useless hands and a whole host of problems.

He didn't mind what he had become, what he'd had to do, because no one had been watching. He had felt safer in his despair, knowing that the others didn't know about the level he had sunk to. It had been lonely and wretched, but at least he hadn't been pitied. At least he hadn't felt so inadequate.

But they were here now. They knew.

"Duo…?"

And Quatre was going to make him feel even guiltier than he already felt for pretending to be dead and abandoning them if he didn't open his eyes now. With a mental sigh, Duo blinked his eyes open and gave the brightest smile he could manage. "Hey guys. Long time no see."

He tried to focus on the three faces he could bear to look at, and ignore the last one hovering by his side, but it was near impossible. Even from the corner of his eye, Heero's presence stood out. His face was devoid of emotion – or almost, anyway. Duo wouldn't be Duo if he couldn't read at least some of the emotions that Heero tried to hide, and he could detect a definite strain of relief.

Wufei was giving him a look that could kill if he hadn't looked so damn happy, Trowa was smiling inscrutably, and Quatre was all but throwing himself on Duo and bawling, though he tried to maintain a stern expression. "Is that all you have to say for yourself, Duo Maxwell?" the blond mock-scolded.

"Uh… sorry I can't shake hands?"

For some reason that set Trowa off – he excused himself to go quietly laugh himself sick in the corner, leaving Duo to stare after him, lips twitching in laughter himself. It was hard to get Trowa to laugh, even though he smiled pretty often, and it was usually the odd things that did it. Duo had always enjoyed doing the oddest things to try to make Trowa give in. He'd forgotten that. What else had he forgotten?

He was jolted out of memories by Wufei smacking his shoulder, and he made a big show out of it, yelping and giving his Chinese friend a very put-out look as Quatre shook his head in amusement. "Watch it, Wu-man! Sick patient here!"

"Sick, certainly," Wufei agreed.

Duo groaned. "Two years and your sense of humour hasn't improved one bit," he complained. He turned to frown at Quatre. "Really, blondie, haven't you been teaching him anything?"

Quatre smiled at him in that soft way of his that meant he was going to say something that Duo really did not want to hear. "It wasn't my job."

Ouch. Unfair. "When the point man falls under fire," he sighed, "the team backs him up."

"The point man didn't fall under fire, he ran."

Duo couldn't hide the wince this time. All good, cutting insights and insults stemmed from the truth, and he _had_ been a coward. "You win."

"Oh, Duo." Quatre reached out to take his hand, remembered that he couldn't, and settled for squeezing Duo's forearm instead. "I'm sorry I started in on you. I do feel upset that you didn't even tell _me_ what was going on, but right now I'm just happy you're alive and back with us." He darted a glance at the last member of their group. "And Heero, too."

That threw Duo for a moment, and he almost whipped around to stare at Heero before he caught himself and trained his gaze solely on Quatre. "I thought you were arguing with Heero," he blurted. "You guys sounded so mad…"

"That was what brought you out of unconsciousness?" Trowa had returned, though laughter still glinted in his eyes.

Duo shrugged self-consciously. "Yeah… well… you guys were really loud."

"Duo, we were speaking below normal levels, trying _not_ to wake you up."

"I have sensitive hearing too?" Duo hazarded. Now he _really_ didn't dare look at Heero. Would the other man think that he was belittling him, not trusting him to be able to fight his own battles?

Wufei snorted. "You haven't changed, Maxwell. You're still the same stubborn, die-hard idiot."

Duo opened his mouth to argue back, but then stopped himself. "No, wait, that isn't the point. You guys aren't mad at Heero anymore?"

Trowa, Quatre and Wufei exchanged looks. "We aren't mad at Heero, per se," Quatre said finally. "We're just going to be giving him a really hard time for a while about what he did to you all these years, but other than that…" He shrugged.

_For what he did to you__ all these years_. Duo froze as the implications of that sentence hit him. He'd thought it was bad that they knew what he'd become after the war, but he'd never expected them to find out what he'd agreed to _during_ the war. He'd expected them to pity him, or feel some level of disgust, or scorn… he'd expected them to be furious at Heero, to shun him even more than they did when all they knew was that Heero had played that one-time joke on him.

None of this seemed to be happening, though. Why?

"Duo." That dreaded, longed-for voice drew him from his panicking thoughts. "Why… why have you been avoiding looking at me?"

"Uh…" Duo cast around under lowered lids for help, but was startled to find that the other guys had gone from the room. Had he been so trapped in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed them leave? Damn.

"Please look at me, Duo."

No fair! That was cheating! Heero sounded so gentle, so sad, so… so _caring_. How was he supposed to steel himself against that sort of attack? Duo squeezed his eyes shut and kept his head lowered. "My eyes are tired," he lied. "In fact, the rest of me's pretty tired, too. I think I –"

"You're lying."

Duo shut up.

Uncomfortable, heavy silence reigned for a few moments. A large part of Duo was screaming at him to open his eyes, to look at Heero, to drink in the sight of the man he loved from the closest distance in two years, to trust in the impossible emotions in that voice… and the smaller but much stronger, scarred part of him told him simply, _no._

_You're just setting yourself up for a fall again._

"Do you…" Heero's tone was hesitant at first, but then it firmed, the old confidence coming back. "Did you know, I didn't tell the others you were alive when I found out one month ago? They only knew when Sally called them a few hours ago."

"You didn't tell them?" Duo's eyes flew opened and his jaw dropped. "I'm surprised Quatre didn't –"

He didn't manage to finish his sentence, because all at once he became aware of how close Heero had moved, right by his side – how tender his smile, how pained the light in his eyes. "Hello, Duo," Heero said softly.

"That's – that's unfair," he stammered. "You –"

"It was devious," Heero corrected. "There's a difference."

Duo couldn't look away. Heero being so close, without a snarl on his face, without anger, without his defensive coldness… it was like a dream. He scrambled for something to say, anything, to stop Heero from looking at him like that. "What did… why isn't Quatre mad at you? The others, too?"

"Maybe it's because I was mad enough at myself for all of them," Heero said. "Maybe it's because I'm not the person I used to be, and they could see that. Maybe it's because I told them that I love you –"

The world roared in Duo's ears, and he felt a little faint.

_Maybe it's because I told them that I love you._

He'd waited for so long for these sentiments to come out of Heero's mouth, but now that they had, he found that he couldn't believe it. He wanted to believe, he so _badly_ wanted to believe, but instead of the soaring elation he had thought he'd feel, all that was there, was a hollow, aching emptiness. All that was there was the thought, _Heero doesn't understand._

_He doesn't understand what love is._

Because Duo understood. He knew better than anyone what love, that unbreakable undying love, was. It meant pain, and loneliness, and a deep yearning. It meant taking on the world willingly, and leaving the world willingly, and giving all the time in between to the other person. Perhaps it was arrogant of him to think that his love was purer, deeper, stronger than Heero's professed love, but he couldn't believe otherwise. Everything he _was,_ everything that was Duo Maxwell, revolved around this love. Heero couldn't say the same. He couldn't even say anything _near_ the same.

With a start, he realized that he sounded like some sort of – addict. It scared him, suddenly, how deeply he had allowed himself to sink into loving Heero. He had poured everything in, for what? To what purpose?

Maybe… maybe now that Heero had reconciled with the others, maybe now that he had friends again, Duo could rest. Maybe he could put down his mantle of _protector,_ and rest, and learn to extricate himself from this addiction, learn to finally put himself first, begin to forgive himself. Because seeing everyone again, having them by his side, Duo could feel the bone-deep soul-deep weariness that became so starkly obvious when compared to the warmth he felt now, with everyone around.

"I see," he said softly in answer to Heero. He didn't know what _else_ to say. All these thoughts swirling through his head were too new; he would have to think on them, think hard.

The pain in Heero's eyes deepened a little. "That's all you have to say…? No, it's okay," he said quickly when Duo opened his mouth, "I know that you can't believe it yet. I know that it seems sudden, that you don't think I mean it, but that's okay. I'll prove it to you from now on, I swear."

The sincerity, that intenseness in those blue eyes nearly made Duo weep, but he managed a weak smile. _Heero doesn't understand. _"Okay," was all he could say.

Sally came in then, trailing the rest of the guys. She smiled apologetically at the two of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need Duo's recent medical history."

"Sure thing," Duo said quickly, smiling his best warm and welcome smile at Sally. His relief was a little too obvious, he realized, because all the guys were giving him funny looks, and Heero was looking narrowly at him, clearly putting his vaunted analytical skills to work. He hoped like hell Heero didn't figure out what he was thinking; he didn't want to hurt Heero, after all. He might be tired of loving Heero, but he always _would_ love him. What he felt and what he wished he could feel weren't the same.

For now, though, he focused on the conversation with Sally, concentrating on the story he was giving her so that the details wouldn't contradict one another. She need only know the facts, but not the story behind them, after all; he could tell her whatever he liked as long as the relevant information was all there.

He had a feeling he would become very practiced in this skill in the coming days.

* * *

Sorry, folks. My muses got bored of the whole star-crossed, families/friends-opposed-to-their-love thing and decided to speed the process up. If you feel Heero got off too easy with the other three guys, remember that he's had two years of being alone and shit, plus they all went through the war too – they understand that it can pretty much drive you mad.

Plus, I have my hands full with unravelling Heero's and Duo's relationship without bothering with the other guys. Even I don't know where this idiot couple will end up. Sorry, guys, I know it's a shortcut and really unprofessional and all to just marginalize the supporting cast, but my uni reading workload is killing me.

Thanks to all those who suggested or pointed out things in your comments – I read them all, some of them more than a few times, and tried to keep it all in mind as I wrote. They helped. Thanks!

Some things might still be puzzling you in this chapter, but rest assured I have some explanations in mind that will resolve them in the coming chapters. Feel free to mention, though, I might have missed something.

**Ashen Skies**  
_"He'd forgotten that. What else had he forgotten?"_


	10. Chapter Ten: Beginnings

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any version of Gundam. I do not own any characters from any version of Gundam. I have no relations to any version of Gundam. I have no permission from the owners of Gundam to write this, nor am I not making any money from this. Disclaimers are a pain to write, because they're _obvious_. Thank you.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5x[not decided]

**Timeline:** During the war, but not following exactly the events of the war in the canon series. So… semi AU?

**Rating:** R. Supposed to be NC-17, but… [scowls]

**Warnings:** Self-mutilation, cruel jokes…? Oh, and Relena-bashing. In an indirect way.

**Summary:** Wufei and Heero played a joke on Duo as revenge for all the times Duo pranked them – but they went too far, and Duo… changed. For the worse. They can find no way to get the old Duo Maxwell back, though not for lack of trying. Heero, for one, will never give up, since he's come to realize exactly how important to him Duo is. Unfortunately, his realization's a bit too late…

* * *

**One Joke Too Far**

_Chapter Ten_

* * *

"No way."

"Are you out of your mind –"

"You're never returning to that place –"

"Don't be stupid, Maxwell!"

Duo blinked at his friends. "I'm already paid up to the end of the month," he pointed out reasonably. "Sally says I can be discharged in a week as long as I take all the pills and stuff, so –"

"How are you planning to do anything with your hands like that?" Quatre demanded, hands on hips. "Sally also says you can't take off the wrappings for at least three weeks!"

"I'll figure it out." Actually, he was planning on taking them off as soon as he got out – he knew how to take care of wounds, obviously, and he was pretty sure he could cope with the pain – but the guys didn't need to know that.

"You are never returning to that place again," Heero repeated, his dark eyes intense. Duo could only glance at him before fixing his own stare on his lap; Heero's gaze, as always, felt like it could reach into his mind. One look certainly served to scramble his brain processes effectively.

Once he wasn't looking at Heero, he could think again. "It's my home," he began.

"That is not a home, Maxwell," Wufei said with a snort. "You were the one who taught me that the place you live in is not automatically a _home_."

Duo stared. Since he didn't know how to react to that, he chose to ignore the point of Wufei's words, and zoomed in on the implication instead. "You've been there?"

"To collect your belongings, yes."

"Wait… what?" Duo was sure his eyes were bulging. "What the hell?"

Trowa was smiling his little amused smile. "You didn't think we'd let you stay in that cesspit any longer, did you?" he said gently, but there was a slight reproach and an 'of course' in there as well.

Duo could only gape. "I can't afford –" he blurted, before snapping his jaw shut. Damn! He hadn't meant to let that slip. It was true, though – his part-time income from programming, which had kept him alive through these two years, was barely enough to survive.

The four men looked caught in varying degrees of sorrow and oddly, guilt. There was no sympathy in there, though, which Duo was grateful and glad for – if there had been, he wasn't sure he could have controlled himself from doing something stupid like hitting them. Instead, he found himself feeling guilty as well – what in the world?

He was feeling guilty for making them feel bad. Huh.

Quatre especially made the guilt worse. There was a whole lot of self-recrimination in that light blue gaze that the blond tried to hide as he said lightly, "I have lots of empty cottages in the country, and they're being wasted. I might as well rent them out to my friends."

Duo knew that Quatre would rather _give_ him the cottage and everything else necessary for free, but Quatre was smart – he knew that _Duo_ would die before accepting what he saw as charity, which was why he'd mentioned rent. Duo would bet all the money he'd had, though, that the rent would be so minimal as to be ludicrous, _and_ that the cottage would be fully furnished and liveable without Duo having to fork over a single cent for those things.

He sighed. "Quatre, you know I love you as a little brother, but –"

"Please, Duo. I've been wanting a break for ages, and this is the perfect excuse – a time for all of us to get to know one another again."

Damn Quatre and his sweet angelic little face and puppy dog eyes and crestfallen-slash-hopeful expression! Duo was wavering, and they all knew it. He scrambled for something to say – and it was surprisingly easy, as Quatre's exact words filtered into his brain. "Wait, wait, what? All of us? What break?"

Quatre was still maintaining his pleading expression. "I've been wanting to take a little holiday with Trowa for a long time now, but there was so much stuff to be done and I didn't have any good excuse but my wilfulness… now I can say that I'm doing it for a dear long-lost friend, helping him get settled in his new home and so on, you know how it goes. No one can say that isn't a good reason."

Duo eyed him. "And why would Wufei and Heero also be on this hypothetical holiday?"

"Well, Heero counts as a dear, long-lost friend, too, _and_ he also needs a place to stay. And with all four of us, of course Wufei has to come as well."

Duo felt like the walls were closing in. Metaphorically, anyway. He didn't think he could survive living in close quarters with any one of them for a period of time – not even Trowa, who was the least complicated one of them all, let alone prickly Wufei or damn stubborn Quatre or _Heero_.

Wufei seemed to understand the turn his thoughts had taken, because he cleared his throat and said, "When Quatre says he has a lot of cottages, he means it. While the cottages are within walking distance of one another, they are still far enough that you will have much privacy if you choose to live by yourself in one of them."

"But… my apartment…"

"We already moved your things out, remember?"

Duo's jaw dropped. "That's right, you said – how dare you guys! I mean, I appreciate the thought, but we haven't even seen one another for two years, you guys don't have the right to make the decisions… for me…" he trailed off at the completely crushed expression on Quatre's face, the new load of guilt on Wufei's and even on Trowa's, and the pain on Heero's. Aw, damn.

He was okay with whatever Wufei and Trowa were feeling, but he'd always had a soft spot for Quatre, who he would always see as his vulnerable little brother, and Heero was… well, Heero. Quatre's hurt and Heero's pain he could deal with individually, but both at the same time?

"Fine… you win," he sighed, and resignedly let himself be hugged tight by a suddenly beaming, almost glowing with joy Quatre, while Heero looked like he'd seen angels. Even Wufei and Trowa were smiling.

Bastards.

"You will have your own cottage." Heero's soft voice drew Duo's attention. "I would… we would not presume to have you share one. We do not want to pressure you into more than you can handle."

Heero's speech was back to its slightly stiff, formal cadence, something that Duo had cured him of during the war. Something in him gave a little. "Yeah… thanks."

Heero's tiny smile squeezed his heart. Duo sighed to himself again.

Sally breezed in and greeted them all before moving to Duo. "Morning, all. Duo, it's good to see you with some colour in you. You've only been here three days, but you're definitely improving."

Duo grinned at her. "Since I was out of it the first day and you drugged me all day yesterday, it only feels like _one_ day to me."

The doctor laughed. "Maybe to you, but to the nurses, I'll bet it feels like forever!"

"What's wrong with the nurses?" Duo asked, confused.

"Sally…" Heero's voice was a warning growl.

But Sally ignored him. "Heero refused to leave your bedside, he's been sleeping in that chair, and whenever the nurses come in for your check-ups he practically interrogates them, or so I've heard. They're all terrified of coming in here now!" She laughed softly, her hands moving professionally as she looked Duo over.

Duo wasn't paying attention to her movements, though. A surge of warmth met a tidal wave of fear going the other way. The thought that Heero might really mean it when he'd talked about love and _not leaving_ was countered by the ever-present doubt and almost-certain fear that Heero couldn't really mean it. That Heero would leave some day.

He felt a cobalt blue stare full of sadness to his right, and he knew without looking that Heero had just understood that whole chain of thoughts that had run through his mind. Duo closed his eyes and turned his head away.

Sally gave him his pills, and Duo took them gratefully. He knew that one of them was a sleeping pill, and for once he was glad of it, for all that it made him feel disoriented upon waking. It gave him an excuse to sleep, and not have to face Heero by his side.

The last thing he was aware of, more than the soft murmur of voices, was the feel of a warm hand gently wrapping around his own bandaged one and not letting go.

* * *

The week went by excruciatingly slowly and yet too fast. Heero had pulled some strings apparently, because little things like visiting hours didn't seem to apply to him. He was by Duo's side when he fell asleep, when he awoke, and all the time in between, except when he had to go to the bathroom. He apparently returned to his apartment to bathe and change and do other miscellaneous things at night, when Duo was sleeping, and returned quickly to the hospital, sleeping there. He didn't have to buy food; the other ex-pilots dropped by every mealtime with take-out.

Duo had asked them once whether they were actually working, and they'd assured him that they kept flexible hours and weren't thrown off-schedule in the slightest.

"I _own_ the company, Duo," Quatre had reminded him with a roll of his eyes. "I think I can decide my own hours. And Trowa's my Head of Security and personal bodyguard, so he goes where I go."

"I only have to stay in the Preventer's HQ when there's a case," Wufei had said when Duo had looked at him next. "And I don't have one now."

And Heero had just smirked. He'd already told Duo about the spectacular manner in which he had quit his job.

During those long hours when Heero had stayed by Duo's side, he hadn't tried to delve into any deep matters or thrash out emotional issues. He'd simply told Duo all about his life in the past couple of years – anecdotes, experiences, regrets. It took two days into this newfound verbosity for Duo to realize that Heero actually planned his little stories carefully: he would tell light-hearted ones that relaxed Duo, and then throw in a carefully casual mention of regrets about _their_ past together, lifting the mood immediately after by either an anecdote or a random piece of information about himself.

Duo learned a lot about Heero in that week whether he wanted to or not – he wasn't sure yet which it was. It was like the whole thing had become one of Heero's missions, every tiny detail carefully considered and given its place in the intricate web of strategy that he constructed.

Actually, come to think of it, Heero probably _had_ treated it as a mission.

Huh.

What made it so hard for Duo was that Heero never tried to force him to speak, or to confront his feelings or their history. In fact, he was amazingly considerate and heartbreakingly sweet, attuned to every small shift in Duo's mood and adjusting accordingly. Duo kept letting his guard down and strengthening it again hastily when he _did_ realize that it was down, but he just couldn't stay aloof no matter how hard he tried or how many times he reminded himself.

This was why, for Duo, time both dragged and sped by. When the time came for him to be released, he was torn between joy that he would _finally_ have time apart from Heero, and regret that he was losing his time with this new too-good-to-be-true Heero.

On second thoughts, he should definitely be happy. Heero was only treating him this carefully, like some fragile doll or untamed wild animal, because their reunion was still in its first tentative stages. It couldn't last. Duo knew Heero – sooner or later a confrontation would be coming up. Heero could never let things lie for long. So the faster he got away from this thoughtful side of Heero, the less his heart would waver in the face of what he'd always wanted.

He wanted to badly to believe, but he was so scared of getting hurt again that the fear ate away at the dream, and turned it sour.

A complete emotional mess inside, the sight of Heero standing there with wheelchair and a stubborn glint in his eyes was the last straw that tipped the scales from 'Be Pleasant' to 'SCREW IT'. Duo scowled.

"If you value your balls, you will get that thing out my sight _immediately_, Yuy!"

"Your health is worth more than my balls or lack of," Heero said calmly.

Heero's matter-of-fact, unembarrassed one-liners like this one still unnerved Duo, but in the past few days he had become more used to them and recovered quickly. "I don't need a damn wheelchair! I don't walk with my hands!"

"It is not only your hands that are hurt," was Heero's retort. "Don't make me list out all the vitamins and minerals you're lacking. Your body needs to rest to recover –"

"My body has been doing nothing _but_ rest," Duo snapped. "My body can at least walk to the damn car, where it will proceed to sit on its butt for the next hour as we drive to the airport, whereupon it will board a plane and _continue_ to sit on its butt for hours more. And I've been stuffed so full of vitamins this entire stay that I can open a pharmacy with my blood!"

Heero was smiling one of those damnable small, amused smiles. "It's hospital procedure," he said.

Duo scowled. He didn't see what was so amusing. "Since when have any of us followed hospital procedure?"

"Well, I'm your doctor now, and I say you damn well sit in that chair until you get into the car." Sally was grinning as she entered, hands in her pockets. "Thought I'd drop in to say goodbye… plus, I figured that you'd try to worm your way out of the wheelchair."

"Is this some conspiracy to surgically remove every shred of dignity I have left?" Duo demanded, warring between amusement and annoyance.

"Is your dignity so reduced that it needs to be removed with surgical care?"

Heero's quiet words, matched with his unreadable gaze, left Duo at a loss for words. That was _exactly_ what he felt, but… he couldn't very well say _yes_, not with Sally around. Not when it was like admitting to Heero how far he'd fallen. Of course, it wasn't like Heero didn't already know, but it was the principle of the thing. Having to admit it would mean the complete eradication of his pride.

"…fine," Duo said finally, reluctantly. "I guess my dignity can survive the damn thing."

"Yes. It can. No one will think anything of it; we are in a hospital after all."

Damn it. See, this was how the new Heero attacked: with gentle words and matter-of-fact reassurances. Duo hated the fact that he _did_ feel better having Heero's firm words backing him up.

As he settled into the chair, he realized that Heero was moving to the back of it where the handles were. He twisted around to glare. "What do you think you're doing?"

Heero raised an eyebrow. "Preparing to push you to the car?"

"I don't need you to push me! I can wheel myself –"

"With those hands?"

"Oh." Duo blinked and looked down at his lightly bandaged hands. "Damn. I forgot."

"It must hurt quite a bit, since you refused the full dose of pain medication," Sally interrupted, frowning. "Perhaps you –"

"No, no, I'm just used to functioning with various parts of me in pain," Duo said quickly. He wanted _out_ of this hospital, and he didn't trust Sally not to go into Doctor Mode and order yet more tests, keeping him here. "Nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to…" When Duo turned around again, the look on Heero's face was one of regret and pain. When he saw Duo staring, he tried to wipe his expression, but he had trouble – it was as if the emotions were so strong that they were hard to hide.

Duo mentally cursed himself. In getting out of one spot of trouble he'd found another; Heero's guilt was becoming a familiar thing that Duo simply could not guard against. That warm feeling raised its head again. Duo viciously shoved it back down.

"Fine, fine, treat me like an invalid," he grumbled, changing the topic. "Let's go already."

The rest of the trip down was uneventful, with Sally accompanying them. Heero kept silent as Duo and Sally bantered, the blonde doctor reminding Duo about all the things he needed to do to take care of his body and Duo needling her about being a mother hen.

"This is where I leave you guys," Sally told them when they passed through the hospital's main doors. "You probably can get out of the chair now, Duo."

"Yes!" Duo pumped a bandaged hand in the air and practically jumped out of the damn chair. A slightly wave of dizziness hit him, and he only had time to think _oh, shit_, before a strong hand grabbed his forearm and braced him. Duo would know the feel of Heero's grip and presence anywhere.

"Thanks," he muttered, mentally yelling at his body to stop being so weak.

"I think you should sit for a while longer." There was a trace of stubborn concern in Heero's voice, and Duo knew that this would turn into a full argument if he wasn't careful. "At least until Quatre's car gets here."

"I'm perfectly fine, it was just a moment of vertigo and – wait, _Quatre's car_?" That distracted Duo from his original thoughts. "Oh, god. The man's going to send –"

"I think I see it," Sally cut in with a snicker.

Duo's vision cleared in time for him to groan as he watched a gleaming white limousine approach. "Tell me we're not getting in that thing while the rest of the world stares," he sighed to no one in particular.

"It's either that or the wheelchair again," Heero said, and he sounded amused as well.

"You have to get in it too, don't sound so smug," Duo informed him grumpily.

Sally took the handles of the chair from Heero. "I think I'll be escaping now," she told them, laughing. "See you boys! Don't overdo it, Duo!"

"For the millionth time, Sally…"

"Yeah, yeah." She waved a dismissive hand. "I repeat myself so many times because I _know_ you won't listen, so I'm just trying to drum it into your subconsciousness."

Duo snorted despite himself. "I don't think it works that way."

She smirked at him. "I can hope."

He laughed. "Yeah. Hey, Sally… thanks. For everything, especially not forcing meds down my throat."

"I was tempted, believe me." She glanced towards the nearly-arrived limo. "I'm going now. Take care of the idiot, Heero."

"Hey!"

But Heero said, solemnly, "I will."

Sally smiled. "Good." She left, waving over her shoulder, as the limo glided to a stop before them. Duo and Heero exchanged a long-suffering glance, united for once in shared embarrassment, as the door opened and Quatre popped out, beaming. They were ushered happily into the limo in front of Quatre, and had time to exchange yet more long-suffering glances with Trowa and Wufei, who were inside, before Quatre entered behind them and the car set off.

It was easier than Duo had thought to fall back into the old patterns of conversation with the other four men. It had been a little awkward in the hospital, because it _was_ a hospital and therefore a huge reminder of the circumstances that had put Duo in it. But here, in the car, it was almost like old times in the war, when all five of them would happen to be in the same safehouse with no missions planned… before the whole mess with Heero had happened.

Best not to think about that. Focusing back onto the conversation, Duo pushed all those thoughts from his mind.

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me."

That was the first thing out of Duo's mouth when they arrived at the vast expanse of countryside, with various cottages dotted around in the distance. It was peaceful, and beautiful, and perfect, and exactly what Duo had imagined when he'd thought about his future – somewhere that was the complete opposite of L2.

He turned to Quatre, who was looking hopefully at him. "You _own_ all this?"

"Yes, including the land. The deed's been passed down through generations of Winners, actually," Quatre told him helpfully. "Even I wouldn't have been able to afford it with what I earn."

"Technically…" Trowa said.

"Well, yes," Quatre acknowledged. "Technically I _can_ afford it, but it would be an inefficient use of my resources."

Duo was still gaping at the land, trying to reconcile the perfection of the place with the fact that he would be staying here. It was like a fairy had appeared and tapped him on the shoulder and went, "I'm going to grant your every wish now!"

Well, not _every_ wish. But this wish was big enough, as wishes went.

"You don't like it?" Quatre said anxiously. "Is it too quiet? Too remote? I have a few penthouses in more urban areas, there's privacy but also –"

"Quat, stop worrying!" Duo laughed. "Man, it's just… it's just so perfect that I didn't know what to say."

Quatre fairly glowed. "I'm glad you like it, Duo." He looked at the others. "Wufei? Heero?"

"It is a beautiful piece of land," Wufei agreed. "I am grateful to you for providing it, Winner."

"I like it," was Heero's simple answer.

"Great!" Quatre said happily. "Okay, the slightly larger cottage nearest to us – that's ours, mine and Trowa's, and it's also the main cottage. It has the more luxurious facilities, like a tub instead of the showers that are in the rest. It has two floors, while yours all have one large open room with a simple bathroom walled off. You guys can come over any time, especially if you want good food – ours is the only one with a fully equipped kitchen."

"A fully equipped kitchen doesn't mean good food," Duo pointed out, grinning. "If you're the one cooking, you might even end up not having a kitchen to cook with anymore."

Quatre stuck his tongue out at him. "Like you're one to talk! I still remember your attempts at cooking back then!"

Memories of the night that it had all started, when they had been bantering about cooking just like they were now, flashed through Duo's mind. He tried to keep his smile up. "Hey, I never claimed to cook well either."

"We should eat meals together, it's only a short walk," Trowa interrupted quietly, not looking at Duo. "The cottage to its far right is Duo's. That's Heero's behind it, and then Wufei's to the left of Heero's."

"Oh! That's right, everyone, your boxes have been put inside your cottages. The caretaker aired the cottages out a few days ago and generally tidied up, but he left your things alone." Quatre accepted the abrupt change in subject easily. "I hope there's enough space for everything, the cottages are rather small, but I think they're nice and cosy for one person."

"Your definition of 'small', my love, is not the normal definition of small," Trowa said dryly. To the other three amused ex-pilots, he said, "Each cottage is actually like a good-sized apartment with a nice view."

Heero shook his head. "A nice view – your tendency towards understatement strikes again, Barton."

Trowa smirked. "Ask me about Quatre and you won't have to worry about understatement. I'll give you detail for detail."

"Trowa!" Quatre exclaimed, hitting Trowa on the arm.

"Ooh, do tell!" Duo said, waggling his eyebrows.

"I do not want to know," Wufei said quickly.

Heero snorted. "I think this is our cue to head to our respective cottages before any unnecessary details are revealed."

They parted with an amicable agreement to head to Quatre's house for dinner. It took Duo two minutes to reach his cottage at an unhurried walk, breathing in the wonderfully fresh air and revelling in the quiet. He could feel the place doing wonders for his psyche already. His last apartment _had_ been hell, and he hadn't looked forward to returning to it at all, no matter what he had told the others. Really, he was rather relieved that they hadn't given him any choice, sparing most of his pride.

Duo took a moment to stand on his porch, looking out at the view and just breathing the air. He watched Quatre open the windows on the first floor of their house while Trowa opened the upper ones, waving at them when they waved at him before disappearing to other parts of the cottage. Movement from the side caught his eye, and he turned towards Heero's cottage. The other man looked up from opening the window facing Duo's house, and gave him a small smile.

He couldn't help but smile back, and felt a wave of warmth when that made Heero's eyes light up. Ducking his head, Duo quickly turned and unlocked his door with the key Quatre had given all of them, cursing the fact that even with light bandages his hands were still stiff, and entered the cottage.

He had been expecting something simple, impersonal, but he froze at the threshold when he saw the furnishings inside. The boxes with his belongings were placed neatly in a corner, untouched, but even without them the spacious room looked like someone lived in it…

That someone being _him_.

The bedspread was a deep, rich blue, his favourite colour – he couldn't remember if he'd ever told any of the pilots that he liked blue. They never really discussed such things with one another, with the war looming over them. There was a shelf with various books on it – a closer look revealed that they were brand-new copies of his own favourite books, titles that he had kept in his apartment that were second-hand and therefore falling apart. But that wasn't all – there were other books there that weren't in his current collection, books that he had only read in softcopy or books that he had wanted to read but had never gotten around to; there were even a couple of paintings in the sketchy, dreamy style that he loved, all colours and movement.

And what stunned him the most was that there were beanbags scattered around the floor, big and squishy and bright. Duo still remembered the time when the war had just begun. They'd stayed in a safehouse in the middle of the city, rented temporarily from an artistic couple out of town for the month, and his delight at discovering that one of the things they'd added to their quirky interior decorating scheme was a beanbag…

"_Oh my god, I love these things!" Duo threw himself onto the beanbag, laughing his head off when it gave under him, moulding to his form._

"_They are a waste of space." Heero entered the apartment, casting a glare at the bag. "They have no useful function."_

"_You sit in them, how is that not useful?" Duo demanded._

"_A chair and desk are needed for productive work, and a bed is best for resting. The beanbag therefore has no utility that is not better fulfilled by a proper chair or a bed."_

"_Geez, lighten up, Heero!" Duo patted the beanbag lovingly. "It's not always about form and function, you know. Sometimes frivolous things are good just because they're fun. You need fun in your life, or what's the point?"_

"_The point of a life is to be productive. Fun has no relevance."_

"_Fun makes life worth living, Heero."_

_Heero shrugged slightly. "Your outlook on life is too different from mine. We will never be able to reconcile the two. This discussion is therefore pointless, as neither of us will be able to convince the other."_

_Watching Heero walk into the next room, Duo sighed to himself. One day, he would get Heero a life. The man needed it badly._

_Oh, and he'd get a beanbag while he was at it, too._

Duo was quite sure that none of the other pilots knew of his fascination with beanbags. Did that mean… this room… was it was Heero who had…? But that would mean that Heero had always been watching him, had been observing and remembering even these little things… the books he read, the art he liked, even his favourite colour.

Was that possible? Dare he hope…?

All this time, Duo had never had any solid evidence that Heero had changed – that Heero meant his words, that Heero returned his feelings. But this room… if Heero had arranged this room, then this was proof that even all those years ago, Heero had been watching him with something other than disdain, or hate, or indifference. And he had remembered, and gone to all the trouble now to set this room up just the way it was. Duo felt warmth blossom in his chest at the thought.

And for once, he didn't crush it, but let it flower.

Maybe this time alone with only the five of them was a good idea, after all. He felt too frayed, and too fragile, and too hurt… but maybe, with people who loved him and who he loved all surrounding him, in a countryside that was as beautiful as it was private, he could find the time and space to heal.

* * *

"Relena, I think this is a really bad idea."

"Hilde's right, Relena. The boys are all out for your blood."

"I know what I did was wrong. I know that they all hate me now… but can't a girl make mistakes?"

"You didn't make a mistake, Relena. You deliberately and in cold blood executed a well-calculated plan."

"They're not really _boys_ anymore, Dorothy. They're grown men. I'm sure they'll be reasonable enough to accept my sincere apology."

"If it was _sincere_, maybe."

"Dorothy! I _am_ sincere, I really do regret what I did!"

"Do you regret it because you truly believe you did wrong, or do you regret it because it drove Heero away from you?"

"How could you –"

"Dorothy, I asked you here to help me talk Relena out of this. You're not helping!"

"I'm sorry, Hilde, but this is stupid. You really screwed up this time, Relena, and I'm disgusted that you're even considering bothering the boys any more."

"I want to _apologise_ to them! Is that so wrong?"

"Your motives for apologising are wrong."

"How would you know what my motives are?"

"Because I know you, Relena. And the boys know you, too. Quatre is one sharp little bunny, and Trowa has a brilliant mind for all that he doesn't speak much, and I won't even start on how disillusioned Heero is with you now. Wake up, Relena! The best you can hope for is a civilised dismissal, and that's already a long shot."

"I thought you were my friend, Dorothy."

"I thought so too, but this side of you… I can't accept this side of you, Relena."

"I'm still me, Dorothy. I haven't changed."

"You have, but you just don't see it. Look, Relena… as a friend to the strong woman that you can be, I'm telling you this now: you'll just be digging your grave deeper if you head to where the boys are. That's how it is, plain and simple. If you can't see it, then nothing will convince you no matter what we say. You might as well give up too, Hilde."

"Dorothy, please…"

"I'll see you around, Hilde. Relena."

"…Relena, you know Dorothy only has your best interests at heart. Her words may be blunt, but –"

"I know she cares for me, but in this she's wrong, Hilde. I know she is. If I show them how truly sorry I am, they will forgive me. I'm sure of it."

"Relena –"

"Thank you, Hilde, but I won't change my mind. I'm going to find Heero."

* * *

Dum dum dum… The Arrival of the She-Devil! Eh, not so soon though. In a few chapters or so. She can't just drop everything and run off, after all.

And in case you were hoping never to see her again, well, Relena had to come in _sometime_. Otherwise there'd be no closure. I'll try to keep the Relena-bashing to a minimum, because senseless character bashing is always not cool. Every character has a past, that's what I believe.

This story probably won't drag too much longer, I think. Aren't you guys relieved?

**Ashen Skies  
**_"But this wish was big enough, as wishes went."_


End file.
